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The Notre Dame Series of Catholic Novels. 


THE FLEMMINGS; 


TRUTH TRIUMPHANT. 


BY 




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MBS. ANNA HKEOESET, 

AUTHOEESS OS’ COAINA, THE OLD GEAT EOSABY, ETtt, ETtt 



NEW YOEK; 

P. O’SHEA, 27 BAECLAT STEEET. 
1870. 


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Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 

P. O’SHEA, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Southern District of New York. 


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CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE I. 

The ou) “ Homestead,” and its occupants. ... 7 

CHAPTEE II. 

What came out of the stobm to the Flem- 
mings 19 

CHAPTEE m. 

What the Flemmings thought and what their 
GUESTS thought 83 

CHAPTEE IV. 

How THE DAT PASSED AND HOW IT ENDED 46 

CHAPTEE V. 

Patrick McCue’s keepsakes 60 

CHAPTEE VI. 

The inner life of Wolfert Flemming 76 

CHAPTEE VH. 

Mrs. Flemming is thankful for the prospe- 
rity AND HAPPINESS OF HER FAMILY 88 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTEE VIIL 

Geopings and. the shadow 102 

CHAPTEE IX. 

The floating shadow 116 

CHAPTEE X. 

Mes. Flemming has a geeat shock 128 

CHAPTEE XI. 

Light out of daekness 142 

CHAPTEE Xn. 

The new day^ 161 

CHAPTEE XIII. 

Mes. Flemming at bay 177 

CHAPTEE XIV. 

Saceifice 193 

CHAPTEE XV. 

Lettees 205 

CHAPTEE XVI. 

Teials come not singly 219 

CHAPTEE XVII. 

John Wilde 235 

CHAPTEE XVIII. 

Pateick McCue and his lettees 256 


CONTENTS. 


V 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Sorrows are not accidents 273 

CHAPTER XX. 

WoLEERT Flemming’s BIRTHDAY 294 


CHAPTER XXI. 

Mrs. Flemming is glad of something at last.. 318 
CHAPTER XXII. 

The man with the hammer — the last bitter 


DROP 349 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Light behind the cloud 372 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

How THE CLOUD PASSED AWAY AND THE LIGHT 

SHONE 399 


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THE FLEMMINGS. 


CHAPTEE I. 

THE OLD “HOMESTEAD,” AND ITS OCCUPANTS. 

It was a wild and bitter night even for that re- 
gion, where the Ossipee mountains dip their feet 
into the waters of that beautiful Lake, which the 
red man, with his higher appreciation of nature, 
called Winnijpiseogee, the smile of the Great Spirit; 
a night so stormy and cold that not a living thing 
was unhoused, far or near, either on the broad farm- 
steads which lay upon the sloping lands between 
the mountains, or around the rude log huts perched 
like eyries on their rugged sides. Only the wild 
creatures driven down from the pathless forests of 
the mountain ranges beyond, by cold and hunger, 
nearer towards the habitations of men, were abroad ; 
and perhaps some luckless traveller who, belated on 
his journey, had lost his way among the drifts. 
Since morning the snow had been steadily falling, 
until not even the bleached head of Chocorua could 
be seen as the day faded into the whiteness of the 
storm, and both were wrapped together in the black- 


8 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ness of the wild night. Gusts of wind swept down 
through the mountain gorges with a blending of 
fierce, shrill sounds, as if the spirits of ten thousand 
Indian warriors were abroad on the storm, mingling 
their savage war-whoops and death-songs together, 
while like mounds of the mighty slain, the snow- 
drifts rose higher and higher, until every by-way 
and road became impassable. 

But there, inside Wolfert Blemming’s great ram- 
bhng farm-house, there was ruddy light, warmth and 
good cheer. That quaint old room where he and 
his family sat grouped about in the warm glow of 
the fire-hght would have charmed the eye of a 
Flemish painter ; and I will describe it — not with 
an idle purpose — with its depths of shadow, its dan- 
cing lights and glowing warmth. It was a large, 
low-rafted room, at the north end of which was a 
fii*e-place of enormous breadth and depth, whose 
sides and high mantlepiece were set with pictured 
tiles representing goodly scenes from the Old Tes- 
tament, while upon the brightly painted hearth a 
pair of massive andirons, crowned with great globes 
of burnished brass, w’ere piled with blazing logs of 
hickory and resinous pine which fiamed and crack- 
led with a merry din, while the smoke, ruddy with 
fire, went curling with a soft roaring sound up the 
deep chimney as if the thousands of sparks that it 
carried into the dark recesses aloft were golden bees, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


9 


humming and swarming home to their hives. On 
the broad shelves arranged on one side of the wall 
there was a great array of white china ; and plat- 
ters and tankards of pewter, scoured to the bright- 
ness of silver, over which the fire-light leaped and 
played in many a line of crinkled gold ; upon the 
oaken fioor, dark and polished by the feet of the 
generations who had trodden it, it danced and ghm- 
mered ; upon the glass of the small deep-set win- 
dows, it flashed and ghttered until they looked like 
the jewelled windows of Alladeen’s palace; up 
among the dark rafters, it lit up the old Continental 
muskets and swords ; the deer’s head with its broad 
antlers ; the Indian bows and arrows ; and the fes- 
toons of sweet-smelling herbs, which were in vari- 
ous ways secured to them, until one might have 
thought, watching it flashing in and out, that birds 
with wings of flame were flitting through the shad- 
ows under the roof ; and still more brightly it dashed 
itself into the antique beaufet set in an angle of the 
wall, and broke into a thousand sparkles on the old- 
fashioned pieces of silver, and the odds and ends of 
rare burnished china — the precious heirlooms of the 
Flemmings — which sat in state behind the glass 
door, as if this spot above all others was the most 
worthy of being glorified. And right bravely they 
gleamed in the red dancing fire-light, those antique 
pieces of silver and those scraps of marvellous china, 


10 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


brouglit from the ends of the earth by the ancestral 
Flemmings, some of whom had sailed their stout 
ships with the first explorers amongst the ice floes 
of the Arctic seas; while others had fought the 
Spaniard and burnt his forts among the spice 
islands of the Orient. Somewhere about the time 
that the imperishable “ May Flower” landed that 
“goodlie companie,” — who afterwards proved how 
well they had learnt the science of intolerance from 
the persecutions and oppressions they had them- 
selves endured — on Plymouth Rock, a Flemming, 
the last of the European line, found his way with 
his wife and household chattels to the American 
wilderness, and pitched his tent on the spot where 
we find his descendants. In the course of time he 
built his modest homestead, which consisted of this 
low-raftered, oaken-floored room and a smaller 
sleeping apartment. Those were the times when 
the Indians, taxation and intolerance — sometimes 
*one, sometimes another, and sometimes all together 
— made the lines hard for dwellers in the land ; but 
he and his brave sons, and their descendants after 
them, defended their home against savage violence 
and destruction, and afterwards through the fire 
and blood of seven years revolutionary war spared 
no sacrifice to serve their country, shrunk from no 
toil to raise their children to a better condition than 
their own, and fill their home with every domestic 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


11 


comfort within their reach. In that comer the old 
beaufet had been built when the walls of the “home- 
stead” were raised, and upon its shelves the first 
American Flemmings had arranged their treasures 
of silver and china ; sometimes hidden away in times 
of danger, again taken out and burnished and set in 
goodly aiTay by fingers long since crumbled to dust. 
And here Wolfert Flemming decreed they should 
remain, although his wife and daughters with wo- 
manly vanity and many soft persuasions showed 
reasons why they should be displayed in the “best 
room ” of the large and new addition he had made 
to his house ; but their special pleading availed noth- 
ing, the old heirlooms of his house were to stay 
where his forefathers had placed them, and here, 
with the old oak settles and the clumsy old oak 
chairs, and the clumsier old oak tables, they were 
shining and glistening in the red cheery fire-light. 
This room was very dear to the man’s true honest 
heart, for its old associations as well as its new — 
and to the hearts of his household ; indeed they 
never used the “new house,” as they called it, ex- 
cept on extraordinary occasions, such as the instal- 
lation of a new minister or a “ Forefather’s Fay,” 
or a grand quilting or apple paring, or something 
of that sort, when all the young folk, far and wide, 
were invited to work, feast and frolic. There was 
a subtle attraction in this quaint old room for all 


12 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tlie Flemmings, old and young, a sometliing which 
made them feel nearer and dearer to each other, for 
here each one uttered his thoughts without re- 
straint, and with that sweet confidence in one 
another which left but small occasion for any un- 
charitableness or heart-burning. Here also, in plain 
and genuine sincerity, they admonished and re- 
proved each other with christianly spirit, holding 
up one another’s hands, warming one another’s 
hearts, until the bonds that bound them together 
were stronger than death. Here the weak sought 
the strong, the sad of heart clung to the hopeful, 
and the desponding came to bask in the cheerful 
and wholesome mirth of the happy; here, from 
their earliest recollection, they had gathered to- 
gether, morning and evening, around their father 
and mother, to worship God according to their 
teachings and with the genuine simplicity of honest 
hearts hear read the word of God, which, full of far- 
off mysteries to them, impressed their minds with a 
noble love of truth, spiritual aspirations, and a sol- 
emn reverence for religious things. Simple in mind 
and heart, they accepted as true what they were 
taught, and lived justly according to the lights they 
had. But the Flemmings took no thought of ana- 
lyzing their lives, and if any one had said to them, 
what I have written of them, they would have set 
him down as a shiftless sort of dreamer, and unfit 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


13 


for a useful work-a-day life ; such an one as they 
feared their golden-haired Eeuben would be. They 
were a matter-of-fact, clear-headed people; and if 
a thought once got into their heads, and this 
thought had fair play — ^which it generally got in 
their well-balanced brains — and lifted like a lever 
some tangible principle into existence, there was 
not a Flemming of them all who would not have 
suffered martyrdom in its defence. 

There they all sat, that stormy winter’s night, 
their comely, honest faces fairly glorified by the 
golden radiance of the fire, almost inclining one to 
believe the old Saxon superstition that angels were 
always basking in the light of a wood fire, a very 
truth. 

Eva and Hope Flemming sat together, their 
young faces bent over wonderful blocks* of patch- 
work, a brillant geometrical problem known as 
‘‘ Job’s trouble,” which they were uniting with much 
taste, while they chattered together in an under- 
tone of the quilting bee they would have when it 
was finished. Very fair and comely were these two 
daughters of the house, in the first flush of a healthy 
and pure womanhood : their forms well developed 
and symmetrically rounded ; their features well cut 
and handsome ; their teeth showing like pearls be- 
tween their red lips, and their beauty crowned by 
thick suits of soft golden brown hair, which was 


14 


^ THE FLEMMINGS. 


pushed back loose and curling from Eva’s rounded 
forehead, but which fell in smooth, heavy bands on 
each side of Hope’s more intellectual brow, and was 
twisted together in a heavy coil at the back of her 
finely formed head. Their father, "Wolfert Flem- 
ming, sat a little apart from them, at a table upon 
which was outspread the large family Bible, a relic 
of early English printing, for which the savans and 
literary people who sometimes came to spend their 
holidays amongst the romantic scenery of the neigh- 
borhood, had time jand again offered him large 
sums ; but no money could have purchased it, and 
no inducement persuade him to part with it. He 
liked the looks of it, the obsolete spelling, the 
quaint letters, the rude line engravings ; and above 
all, the family record of his house for generations 
back. The book was opened at the sixth chapter 
of St. John’s Gospel, and he was reading to him- 
self, with a reverent but troubled look upon his 
countenance. He was a tall, muscular man, broad- 
shouldered and well formed, his lower jaw square 
and firmly set, with a cleft in the chin just redeem- 
ing his countenance from grimness ; his eyebrows 
were dark and heavy, and overhung a pair of large 
intelligent gray eyes ; his forehead broad and mode- 
rately high, crowned with a full crop of soft black 
hair, thickly sprinkled with white. Dressed in a 
suit of brown homespun, which hung loosely upon 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


15 


him without anything to relieve its homeliness of 
color or style, except the exquisite whiteness of his 
coarse linen collar, turned well back from his throat? 
and the spotless cuffs fastened around his sinewy 
wrists by a pair of old-fashioned gold sleeve-buttons, 
there was yet in the appearance and attitude of the 
man a dignity and power as remarkable as it is diffi- 
cult to describe. There was a vacant chair near — 
one of those prim, low-seated high-backed chairs, 
rich in beading and grotesque carving, all filled in 
with fine cane-work which people who own them 
declare, with due sole'mnity, were brought over in 
the “ May Flower;” but the Flemmings had no such 
tradition of this one, and yet they never doubted 
but that it was brought in the old Puritan days from 
England by some of the early settlers ; and wished 
sometimes that it might speak its own history, for 
it may have* belonged to. Miles Standish himself. 
Its origin, however, gave them small anxiety ; it was 
so well filled that their eyes, hearts and minds were 
fully satisfied when its usual occupant, their little 
mother, was throned upon it ; and had she by any 
inexorable event been forced to vacate it, it would 
never have been used again, but put aside as a pre- 
cious relic of the best wife and mother who ever 
lived. They had all of them a very good idea of 
relics in a limited sense, and would only have re- 
garded them as superstitious if religion had invested 


16 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


them with a sacred or spiritual meaning. Mrs. 
Flemming had just flitted from her chair, knitting 
in hand, to see after the welfare of a calf which was 
so unfortunate as to be born in the middle of a New 
England winter, and about which all her motherly 
instincts were aroused. There was yet another of 
the family group present, who sat leaning against 
an angle of the fire-place, poring over the pages of 
a well worn book, while the glow of the yellow 
flames fell round and upon him with a radiance 
that brought him out from the dark back-ground 
like one of those celestial figures one sees in the 
pictures of Domenichino and Velasquez. He was 
slight and delicately formed, his forehead broad and 
serene; his eyes large, blue and tender; while his 
pale golden hair, parted in the middle, fell in soft 
waving masses over his cheeks and neck. This was 
Eeuben Flemming, the youngest oi the children, a 
puzzle and sweet torment as well as mystery to the 
strong, practical, wholesome minds of his kindred, 
who were utterly at a loss to know what he was 
good for, because hard, energetic, ceaseless work 
did not agree with him, but set him to faint if he 
attempted to do what his sturdy brother Nicolas 
did, or turn white and trembling with a strange 
sickness which neither he nor they could under- 
stahd. But Eeuben Flemming had a marvellous 
energy for books ; indeed all of them were fond of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


17 


books, and read intelligently, but with him it was a 
passion in whose sweet trances he would lose him- 
self with utter forgetfulness of his surroundings : 
and Hope, who often watched him in those moods, 
declared that it was equal to seeing the rich glory 
of sunset reflected on the haze of the distant moun- 
tains, to mark the changeful emotions of his heart 
pictured on his lovely countenance. 

Mrs. Flemming came in now and brought good 
news of the calf, and also a wholesome breath of 
chilliness as she fluttered around, and passing her 
hand lightly and tenderly over her husband’s head, 
leaned over his shoulder and with a little sigh whis- 
pered : ‘‘Still troubled over the text ; ” and getting 
no answer, left him and took her seat upon her 
throne. A little body was Martha Flemming, neat, 
tidy and alert, with a quick, shrewd intelligence in 
her fine black eyes, and an expression of benevo- 
lence on her forehead which almost belied the 
rather suspicious and vindictive mouth whose thin 
lips and narrow chin made strangers think she was 
a hard one to deal with, as she was, until to her 
clear thinking all that seemed doubtful in principle 
or fact was made clear to her. 

“ I am thankful,” she said, as she settled herself 
and began turning the heel of her sock ; “ that the 
last chore is finished. The poor silly calf is as com- 
fortable as can be ; but I do wish Nick was at home. 


18 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


It is still snowing ; indeed it falls thicker than ever. 

“ I told you so, Hope — I knew yesterday by the 
white mists over the mountains that we should have 
a good old-fashioned snow before long. I am so 
glad,” said Eva with a httle laugh. 

‘‘ So am I, ’’said Hope ; ‘‘ the ground is wellfrozen, 
and the sleighing will be perfectly splendid. I do 
admire to see a great heavy fall of snow that covers 
up fences and walls, and blocks one up until one 
has to be dug out.” Just then a gust of wind was 
hurled down from the mountains with such a roar 
and commotion that the house trembled at the 
shock, while the sleet lashed the windows and walls 
with a shrill whistling sound that rose and fell with 
the wind like despairing shrieks. The women, al- 
though accustomed to the wintry storms of that re- 
gion, had never heard the like of this before, and 
let fall their work and looked at each other, startled 
and pale. The boy Eeuben did not hear the din ; 
he stood beside Uriel in the sun, listening to the 
cherub who sought knowledge of Eden, his soul 
thrilling with horror, as at the angel’s touch the 
beautiful heaven-clad thing faded into the swart, 
defiant, scowling image of Lucifer. 

WoKert Flemming hfted his head from the in- 
spired page, and with an exalted look exclaimed: 
‘‘O ye cold and heat, bless the Lord! O ye dews 
and hoar frost, bless the Lord I O ye frost and cold, 


THE FLEMmNGS. 


19 


bless the Lord. O ye ice and snow, bless the Lord ; 
O ye nights and days, bless the Lord. O let the 
earth bless the Lord ; let it praise and exalt Him 
above all, forever.” With another man, this might 
have seemed hke a dramatic display, but in him it 
was the spontaneous outflowing of a soul whose 
thoughts dwelt habitually on the infinite attributes 
of the Supreme Bning, and who searched the Scrip- 
tures daily, hoping to find in them — ^nay, believing 
that he had — the words of eternal life. 

I guess father,” said Mrs. Flemming after a lit- 
tle pause, ‘‘ that we ought to be thankful that every- 
thing is housed. There’s no such apples, potatoes, 
or pumpkins either, around as ours. I’m glad to 
know they are safe ; but, deary me ! I do wonder 
where Nick can be this wild night?” 


CHAPTER II. 

WHAT CAME OUT OF THE STOKM TO THE FLEMMINGS. 

“Nicholas is safe, depend upon that, mother,” 
said the Elder, as he arose and stretched him- 
self; then grasped the heavy tongs, turned over 
the fire, heaped up the coals, and poked and 
punched between the crevices of the logs, with an 
infinite relish in the din and sparkle that he had 


20 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


raised. suppose he is up at Deacon Sneath- 
en’s.” 

“ Yes,” said Eva, laughing slyly, “ he promised 
to tell Huldah how to manage her hydrangers.” 

“So. It is early to begin spring gardening,” 
said the Elder, with a grim smile, not displeased 
at the hint. 

“ Huldah is a natty, industrious girl,” said Mrs. 
Flemming, knitting vigorously ; “ a God-fearing 
girl too, and raises the finest chickens and spins 
the evenest yarn of any one from here to Alton 
Bay.” 

Wolfert Flemming — or “the Elder,” as he was 
called by the people of his sect — turned, and 
looked fondly at the little figure of his wife, 
smoothed her hair with his great, brown hand 
very gently, and said: “Martha! Martha! thou 
art troubled about many things.” 

“ Yes, I know it,” she replied, with a merry Httle 
laugh. “I don’t know what in the land’s name 
would become of you all if I were not.” 

“ I don’t like that word trouble, ‘ httle mammy 
it sounds reproachful, and I am sure that you are 
very proud of us all,” said Eva. 

“ Trouble’s trouble, my dear. It was no fun to 
have raised the family I have — ” 

“ And the husband — ” 

“ Nonsense, father, you were raised before I was 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


21 


bom, but land sakes! just listen at the storm. I 
do wish that Nick had not gone away this morn- 
ing.” 

“ Mother, you forget that Nicholas has spent the 
last four years of his life in Franconia, where he’s 
learned* to take care of liimseK. Trust in God for 
your boy’s safety, and in his own sagacity,” said 
the Elder gravely, for he could not bear to have 
her troubled or anxious. 

‘‘ Well, I’ll try my best ; but it would be frightful 
for any living thing to be exposed to the fury of 
this storm.” Then, after a httle while, she said : 

“ What do the people down at say about the 

new-fangled meeting house ?” 

“They are greatly excited over it, and guards 
are stationed around it every night to prevent its 
being torn down,” said the Elder, sternly. 

“What in the world sort of sect is it? Is it 
Eomish?” 

“WeU, about as bad; it’s one of the Church of 
England tabernacles, and their preacher or priest, 
or whatever he is, is as ignorant of the simplicity 
of the Gospel as the Pope of Borne himself.” 

“ It’s enough to rouse the Pilgrim Fathers from 
their graves, to have such doings on the soil of 
New England. Time was, when the lines would 
not have been quite so easy for them as now. I 
heard my grandniother tell of one that was kept 


22 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


in the pillory a day and night, and branded, for 
preaching strange doctrines in our borders. 
What’s that?” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming, with a 
start. 

‘‘ Mother, I hear nothing but the wind,” said her 
husband. 

“Land sakes! I certainly heard a knocking 
somewhere ; I hope it is not Indians. The house 
don’t overget their filthy ways for a week when we 
have to harbor them. There it is again — ” 

“ Yes, some one was knocking at the side-door 
of the new part of the house ; there was a mo- 
mentary lull in the storm, and they all heard it — a 
low, quick knocking, a smothered cry and sudden 
silence. The Elder took up the candle and went 
out, followed by Eva and Hope. Mrs. Flemming 
sat still, and knit with nervous rapidity, not over- 
much pleased at the prospect of entertaining 
Indians. The Elder strode through the room 
adjoining the ‘ old homestead,’ and turned down a 
long narrow passage, at the extremity of which 
was the door whence the sounds came. He gave 
the candle to Eva, who stood shading it with her 
hand, and unlocked the door; then, turning the 
latch, quickly opened it, and was almost thrown off 
his feet by a man falling heavily on him. The 
wind rushed in with a wild shriek, driving in sleet 
and snow, and extinguished the light. Eva 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


23 


screamed with terror, but her father’s -voice, clear 
and distinct, yet slightly tremulous with excite- 
ment, rose out of the darkness, bidding her close 
the door: ‘I am not hurt,’ he cried ; ‘but here is a 
man frozen, or dead, in my arms. Courage, child, 
and close the door quickly.’ The wind was blow- 
ing with tremendous force, but the strong healthy 
girl threw herself against the door, and after a 
struggle which quickened her breath, she suc- 
ceeded in closing and locking it. By this time 
Mrs. Flemming and Hope, uneasy at their long 
absence, joined them — all in the dark together, 
asking and answering questions, as they groped 
their way back to the sitting-room, moving slowly, 
for the weight of the frozen man was heavy even to 
the Elder.” 

“I knew that I heard a knocking,” said Mrs. 
Flemming; “and now, suppose he should be 
frozen to death through our not going at first.” 

“ I don’t think he’s frozen to death, mother,” he 
replied. “ God forbid such a thing should happen 
at our door. I think he is only benumbed with 
the cold and fatigue together.” 

They were now in the room next to their sitting- 
room, and through the open door a stream of light 
and warmth entered, and the Elder laid his unbid- 
den guest very gently down on the broad chintz- 
covered lounge, while the others ran to get restor- 


24 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ath'es, blankets, and pillows. He unfastened the 
man’s wrappings, unbuttoned his vest and shirt, 
and laid his hand anxiously over his heart; for 
there was no pulsation in the big brawny wrists, 
no life in the blue frozen hands so helpless and 
cold. “It beats,” he said at last; “beats very 
faintly. Open the door wide ; that will let in heat 
enough for him now, poor fellow,” said the Elder, 
while he rubbed the stranger’s chest vigorously. 
“ A few drops of brandy, mother — now a little 
more — he swallows it — rub his wrists; bring in 
warm flannels — ” And they rubbed him and min- 
istered to him long and patiently, and hopefuUy, 
as the signs of life grew more frequent and dis- 
tinct, until finally his stagnant blood flowed slowly 
and warmly through his veins. He opened his 
eyes, and looked with a dreamy wonder about him 
and into the strange faces around him. 

“ You are all right now, friend,” said the Elder ; 
“ take a drink of this hot coffee ;” and he held the 
steaming cup to the stranger’s lips, while he put 
his arm under him, lifting his head from the pillow. 
Who was this waif that the storm had driven into 
their home ? was he a prophet of evil to the happy 
household, or were they entertaining an angel 
unaware?” They did not know; they had not 
even thought of who or what he might be. Mrs. 
Flemming was only heartily glad that he was not 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


25 


an Indian, and the girls thought him uncommonly 
hard-featured. There was not the smallest fig- 
ment of anything in his appearance in which there 
was a possibility of romance; his features were 
large and coarse, his head was covered with a 
shock of grizzled sandy hair, almost red ; and the 
lower part of his face was hidden by a thick 
tawny beard, grotesquely covered with small 
icicles, which were melting at their leisure. The 
sisters thought he was a Jew ; but they recognized 
only one fact concerning him, and that was he was 
their guest, thrown by Providence upon their hos- 
pitality. He drank the hot fragrant coffee slowly, 
and with some difficulty in swallowing; then he 
began to fumble about his breast, inside his vest, 
and about his neck, with trembling fingers and 
perplexed look. 

‘‘He misses something,” said Mrs. Flemming. 
“ Is it your money that you are looking for ?” He 
shook his head in the negative ; the cold had had 
such an effect upon him that his powers of articu- 
lation were not yet restored. It was not his 
money. 

“ Perhaps it is his watch. Is it your watch, sir ? 
See, here it is, safe and sound,” said the active 
little woman, holding his old silver watch, as big as 
a turnip, before his eyes. 

No, it was not the watch, which he motioned 


26 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


away from him ; nor was it a ‘‘ locket,” or “ minia- 
ture.” “ Well,” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming, I’m 
beat out. Come here, Eeuben ; this stranger has 
lost something, and is fretted about it ; see if you 
can help me make out what he means.” Eeuben 
had just come in; he had been helping Tvitli the 
rest to restore the frozen man, but had stepped out 
at his mother’s bidding to fetch an additional 
blanket from an upper room. 

“ Perhaps it is this ; while father was rubbing his 
breast, this flew off upon the floor; father must 
have broken the string,” said Eeuben, holding by 
a bit of broken cord a brass medallion, upon which 
was graven the figure of a woman ; ‘‘ whatever it is, 
there is a cross on the other side.” A gleam of joy 
lit up the homely face of the stranger ; he 
stretched out his hand to take his treasure, and 
pressing it to his lips, murmured, “Blessed Mo- 
ther ;” then, folding it close to his breast, he fell into 
a quiet sleep, heaped over with soft fleecy blankets, 
his head pillowed on downy pillows, while the storm 
howled without as if enraged at losing its prey. 

“ Poor man, I am glad he found that thing of his 
mother’s; I guess it is some keepsake she gave 
him years ago, and I shouldn’t wonder if she is 
dead,” said Mrs. Flemming, settling herself once 
more at her knitting. “ I do wish Nick was home 
with us — it is an awful night.” 


THE ELEMMINGS* 27 

Wolfert Flemming’s own heart was not alto- 
gether easy about his absent son. He might be 
safely housed at Deacon Sneathen’s, orhe might be 
lying cold and stark among the frozen drifts ; but 
he kept his anxiety to himself, and talked of other 
things, trusting all the while in God for the safety 
of his first-born. ‘‘We have just rescued a 
stranger from death,” he thought to himself; “we 
have done unto him as . a brother ; so may our 
Father in Heaven do unto us and somehow he 
was comforted. 

“I tell you what, father,” said Mrs. Flemming, 
after a silence longer than usual; “maybe that 
man in there is not a safe one to have under our 
roof. Suppose we move him to the barn ; there’s 
plenty of nice sweet straw there, and he can have 
the blankets and pillows.” 

“ Nonsense. I won’t have him disturbed, wife,” 
said the Elder, frowning. 

“ I shan’t sleep a wink to-night,” she continued. 
“Eva, see if the beaufet is locked ; but stop. 
Eeuben, you and the girls take the silver out and 
carry it up stairs to my room.” 

“Let tlie silver be,” said the Elder, gravely. 
“ Is it seemly for Christians to hold a halter in one 
hand, when they do a thing for God’s sake with 
the other ? Be patient, thrifty, and careful, little 
wife ; and comfort yourself with the thought of 


28 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


those treasures which are laid up where neither 
moth nor rust doth consume, and where thieves 
break not through and steal.” 

JMrs. Flemming had too much respect for the 
genuine goodness of her husband to argue this 
point with him; she felt that, according to her 
common-sense view of the matter, he was wrong in 
fact, however right he might be in principle ; so 
this managing little woman determined on a piece 
of strategy, by which she could preserve her trea- 
sures from harm, and at the same time avoid dis- 
obeying her husband ; she would, under some domes- 
tic pretence, stay in the sitting-room a little while 
after the family had retired, and bolt the door 
between it and the other one occupied by the 
stranger ; and being always the first one down in 
the morning, she could shp the bolt back, and no 
one be the wiser. This idea quieted her mind, and 
she began to narrow the toe of her sock with 
much complacency, taking part now and then in 
the cheerful conversation of her daughters ; while 
the Elder walked up and down, with his hands 
clasped behind him, pondering over that chapter of 
the Gospel of Saint J ohn, which had for years trou- 
bled him secretly, thinking deep thoughts which led 
him into a mental labyrinth whereof he held no clue, 
which led him, as the stars did the Eastern kings, 
until having come to Jerusalem it disappeared. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


29 


The next morning Mrs. Flemming found every- 
thing safe — none of her treasures had taken to 
themselves wings and flown away, and she saw 
how much anxiety she might have spared herself ; 
but, womanlike, she reasoned : “ It is best to be on 
the safe side ; there’s no knowing what may have 
happened.” Then she bestirred herself to prepare 
a substantial and delicious breakfast, which was 
ready to be spread on the snow-white cloth by the 
time their morning devotions were over. They 
v/ere all seated around the table when their guest 
came in. He had a stooping, ungainly flgure, and 
returned their salutations with an awkward obeis- 
ance ; the Elder made a place for him near himself, 
and Mrs. Flemming began to pour out a cup 
of coffee for him, feeling a little guilty as she 
looked into his honest eyes. The man sat down, 
then he bowed his head, and lifting his righ^ 
hand, made the sign of the cross, not in a littlo 
twiddle on his breast, as if he were ashamed of it, 
or in a twirl and flutter of his fingers, as if he were 
catching flies, but a slow, deliberate, broad-spread 
sign, in which there was so little to be mistaken 
that Mrs. Flemming, who had been watching him, 
exclaimed : “ Good gracious ! ” and gave such a 
start that the cup and saucer fell from her hand 
with a clatter upon the tray,. spilling its contents 
into a freshly-filled bowl of her best maple sugar. 


30 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


The stranger raised his eyes and looked around, 
unconscious of the excitement he had caused ; the 
Elder asked him how he felt, while he helped him 
to bacon and eggs, and Mrs. Flemming, with a red 
flush on her cheeks, poured out another cup of 
coffee. Before he began to eat, he held his knife 
awkwardly poised, and with a hesitating bashful- 
ness, said: ‘‘Fm heartily obliged to you all for 
your kindness ; God and His saints reward ye for 
the same, for I must have perisht if ye hadn’t taken 
me in. I was almost agone, when of a sudden I 
saw the light from your windows ; after that I 
couldn’t remember anything.” 

“We were thankful to have saved a fellow-being 
from such a dreadful death. Where were you go- 
ing ?” said the Elder. 

“ To Wier’s Landing,” he replied. 

“ A long journey, even for a summer day. You 
must be a stranger to these parts ?” 

“ It hasn’t been six months, sir, that I landed in 
Boston, from Ireland, and I thought I’d come up 
the counthry with my pack, — I am a peddler ; — 
but I staid longer than I intended, and was on my 
way back wlien the snow caught me on the moun- 
tains, blinding me so that I lost my way entirely.” 

“You have had a narrow escape — I don’t re- 
member such a storm in many years” — said the 
Elder, who had not noticed him bless himself. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


31 


*‘You are very welcome to the small service we 
liave rendered you, and also to remain with us un- 
til it will be safe for you to travel.” A warm, 
grateful glow suffused the stranger’s countenance ; 
his heavy eyes lit up, and, folding his hands to- 
gether, he leaned towards the Elder and said in 
fervent tones : “ May the holy Mother of God' reioard 
your 

There. It was out. It had exploded like a 
bomb in the very bosom of this good Puritan 
family, that their guest was neither Indian, thief, 
or Jew, but a papist, than which they had nothing 
in greater horror ; and here, under their very roof, 
eating at their table, practicing his superstitious 
rites and uttering his idolatrous prayers, before 
their very eyes, he sat in this room of all others, 
where for generations God had been worshipped 
according to the orthodox teachings of Luther and 
Knox. An Irishman his speech betrayed him — a 
papist his httle acts of devotion confessed him ; the 
combination was overwhelming, and the meal was 
finished in silence, for there was an ominous look 
on Martha Flemming’s face, seldom seen, but when 
seen they all knew the portent, and respected as 
well as dreaded it. She followed her husband from 
the room, her step quick and firm, her head thrown 
a little back, a sparkle in her handsome black eyes 
and a red spot on each cheek. Meanwhile the 


32 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


simple soul, utterly unconscious of offence, drew a 
chair up beside Beuben, and told him, with an 
effort to be brave and careless over it, that he had 
lost his ‘^pack,” containing all* of his earthly goods, 
in the drifts. He thought, as well as he could 
remember, that he had it when he saw the lights 
from the windows, and that was the last bit of con- 
sciousness he felt ; did Eeuben think he could get 
some one to go a little way with him to look for 
it?" 

“ I’ll speak to my father, sir, when he comes in," 
said Beuben, kindly. Then he asked him if he had 
travelled much in the old country." ‘‘ Yes, the 
man had been to France, and Spain, and Algiers !" 
Then Beuben, all aglow with enthusiasm, asked 
question after question about those beautiful lands 
of his poetic dreams, and if he got no poetry and 
romance in exchange, he received shrewd, sensible 
answers, which made him feel as happy as if he 
were reading a new book. The girls were busy 
over their morning duties in the household, and 
when Mrs. Flemming came back she saw her son, 
his arm leaning on the man’s shoulder, their heads 
so close together that his golden hair and the 
other’s grizzled locks mingled, the one telling 
strange tales of other lands, the other listening 
entranced. 

^‘Beuben," she said sharply, ‘^come, get down 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


33 


some bundles of yarn to reel ; I don’t see liow you 
can sit around idling, where all are busy.” 


CHAPTEE III. 

WHaT the FLEMMINGS THOUGHT, AND WHAT THEIU 
GUEST THOUGHT. 

It is not as safe to judge by the actions as by 
the intention and the degree of light which gives 
expression to the motives in different minds. 
The confession of faith made by the stranger at 
the breakfast table of the Flemmings, when he 
blessed himself in his broad, old-country fasliion, 
and gave vent to his gratitude by invoking the 
Mother of God to reward his benefactors, pro- 
duced different .effects upon husband and wife. The 
Elder went away to a quiet little room, where he 
kept his papers, books, and the farm accounts; 
a room not fine enough to be called a library, ofiice, 
or study, but a matter-of-fact sort of a place, where 
a plain desk, two or three chairs, a tool-chest, 
some book-shelves, a fowling-piece, and an array 
of fishing tackle completed the furnishing. The 
books were sermons, essays, and arguments on 
Puritanical doctrines ; orthodox, quaint and se- 
vere — permeated through and through by that 


34 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


anti-catliolic spirit which formed one of the inte- 
gral essences of their creed ; books written before 
the innovation of the newer lights had polished 
down its monstrous angularities and sweetened the 
bitter waters with something of Christian charity ; 
books cherished by the Elemmings for the sound 
doctrine of them, and for the sort of moral sheet- 
anchor -they were to their spiritual life. The Elder 
closed the door, went to a window, brushed the. 
frost-work from a pane and looked out at the 
snow, which still fell heavily. He drammed softly 
on the glass, and his gi'eat eyebrows lowered over 
his eyes, a sure sign that he was perplexed and 
annoyed. But he never acted hastily ; it was his 
way to look tilings squarely in the face, to measure 
and gauge them in length, breadth and depth, be- 
fore he undertook to cope with them ; and there 
he stood, girding his thoughts together for coun- 
sel, when Mrs. Flemming, who left the table almost 
immediately after him, came in. She did not 
speak until she got close to him, then laying her 
hand upon his arm, she said : “Elder!” She had, 
two or three times before since their marriage, 
when she thought the gravity of the occasion re- 
quired, or her own sense of dignity of right de- 
manded it, called him “ Elder;” it was a portent 
which he understood, and when he turned and saw 
the flushed and determined countenance lifted to 


35 


§ 

THE FLEMMINGS. 

Lis, he braced LimseK for battle, for Le knew from 
his religious point of view that she was temblj ex- 
ercised, and as much alarmed by the presence of 
the papist that had dropped into their midst, as if 
a wolf from the Franconia mountains had got into 
their sheep-fold ; nay, more. 

“T\Tiat is the matter, wife? ” 

“ You may well ask that, Elder Flemming, after 
seeing and hearing what happened at the breakfast 
table with that miserable pedler. That man is a 
papist. I never saw one before, and hoped I never 
might ; but I’ve read of them to some purpose.” 

‘‘ Yes,” said the Elder gravely, “ he is a papist ; 
there can be no doubt about it, and I am sorry 
for it.” 

“ But what are we to do ? We cannot have him 
staying on,” she replied, in her quick decided way. 

We must be patient. There is no help for it,” 
he rephed in his quiet tones. 

‘‘ Patience in this case were an offence to God. 
I can have no patience, not the least grai^, with 
an idolatrous papist; and he certainly must not 
stay under this roof.” 

“What would you have me do, wife?” said the 
Elder, as he turned and faced her, and looked 
gravely down upon her. 

“ I would have you go this instant and bid him 
leave the house.” 


36 


% 

THE ELEMIillNGS. 

“ Have you looked out to-day ? ” lie asked in the 
same even tones. 

“Yes, I have looked out, and know that it is 
snowing as fast as ever — but that is not my busi- 
ness ; I will not have that man contaminating my 
house with his idolatrous breath, and if you want 
peace under your roof you must send him off.” 

“‘Won’t’ and must’ are senseless words under 
certain circumstances,” answered the Elder. “Prov- 
idence sometimes gives us blind work to do, and it 
is not for us to gainsay the wisdom of it. God 
knows that I would suffer even death for the integ- 
rity of my faith ; but in this case, after looking at 
it in all its bearings, I can come to but one conclu- 
sion. I did not make it storm — I did not bid this 
stranger to my door — the storm arose at the bid- 
ding of Him who takes into account the falling of a 
hair from my head ; and this. His creature, let us 
remember — permitted by His providence — was driv- 
en by the violence of the storm to the shelter of 
my roof; let him therefore be what he may, he 
shall not be driven hence. Why, woman ! he would 
perish in an hour ! ” 

“ But consider. Elder Flemming,” responded the 
little woman, impressed in spite of herself by his 
simple practical reasoning, “ consider what an of- 
fence it is to our simple God-fearing faith, to have 
him flouting his crosses ;‘n our very faces, and say- 


THE FLEMmNGS. 


37 


ing liis^ idolatrous prayers to the Virgin Mary. 
You are not faithful to your Christian duty, and 
your responsibility as an Elder of the Church, to 
to allow it. Those books, full of sound doctrine, 
from whose pages we have not only found a safe 
guide, but learnt the unction of the word, cry out 
against you!” she added, pointing to the book- 
shelves. 

“ I do not hold with superstitious practices, wife, 
neither do I love popery,” said the Elder, with just 
a little quaver in his voice ; ‘‘ but neither one nor 
the other can hurt the integrity of my belief in 
sound doctrine. But I should feel worthy of con- 
demnation if I turned one of God’s creatures from 
the shelter of my roof in such a storm as this — and 
I will not do it.” 

“Very well. The responsibility be upon your 
head. I have done my duty — and I tell you. Elder, 
that there’s something lying at my heart which 
means trouble, and that man is to bring it upon 
us. I never felt so. I am not used to such things, 
and it troubles me. You and Beuben can lix up a 
place somewhere over the kitchen for him to sleep 
— Christian men have slept there before him — and 
he can take his meals b}^ the kitchen fire whilst we 
are at ours,” said Mrs. Flemming. 

“ He shall eat at my table whilst he is my guest. 
Now, little wife,” he said, laying his broad hand 


38 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


kindly upon her shoulder, ‘‘would you have me, 
your husband and a Flemming, lose my self-re- 
spect, and offend my conscience, by doing unto 
others that which I would not they should do unto 
me? I have never done so yet. It would be 
against my views of Christian hospitality and hu- 
manity. No, no! — think better of this, and the 
time will come when you will be thankful that your 
husband did not do that which would call a blush 
to his cheek to his dying day.” 

“'Sou ought to blush to your dying day for eat- 
ing and drinking with a papistical Irishman,” she 
said, giving her head a little toss. 

“ Christ ate with publicans and sinners,” replied 
the Elder, in his grave low tones ; “ and we are but 
the servants of our Master. In the Book of books 
He tells us that a cup of cold water given in His 
name to one of His little ones, and for His sake, is 
service done unto Himself; He does not say to 
ivliom we are to give, whether to Jew or Gentile, 
but places all the value upon the act done for the love 
of Him, I am sorry that you have been ruffled, 
little wife ; I would not for my right hand anger 
you lightly, but the question between us is one that 
I must settle according to the precepts of the gos- 
pel, and not according to the old code, which would 
have hung that papist for coming within our bor- 
ders.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


39 


“ I do not wish to hang the man ; though I don’t 
know that it would be far from wrong to hang 
idolators, that the poison of their doctrines might 
not imperil the God-fearing,” she said, holding her 
head very erect; then, knowing how useless it 
would be to argue the matter further, she turned 
and left the room to go the round of her endless 
domestic duties, the first act of which was — as we 
have seen — to rout the dreamy Eeuben from his 
comfortable seat beside the pedler, to go up with 
her to the weaving-room, among the yarn hanks — 
rather a prosy thing to come to, after listening to a 
rudely eloquent account of a battle on the romantic 
shores of Spain, for the old pedler had fought under 
Wellington on the peninsula. Poor Eeuben ! cob- 
webs for banners, scaling the loom instead of a 
rampart, the sharp quick tones of his little mother’s 
voice instead of the sound of clarion and trumpet, 
dust for the smoke of battle, and the great hanks 
of blue, grey, and white yarn for bastions and forts; 
the boy’s head was full of the fancy, and he pitched 
over the heavy, twisted hanks — thinking of the 
Spaniards all the time — with such vim that his 
mother cried out : “ Eeuben ! my son, you will bury 
me under the w^ool if you don’t stop,” — while she 
looked with a tender, puzzled expression at his 
fiushed, beautiful face ; ‘‘ and besides, you are get- 
ting everything in a muss up there ; come down.” 


40 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


And Keuben came down through the warp of the 
loom, breaking about five hundred threads, and to 
his great astonishment bumping his head as it fell 
where his feet ought to be, while his feet stuck up 
helplessly through the broken meshes of the loom. 
‘‘ What is he good for ?” thought his mother, look- 
ing with dismay at the broken threads; ‘‘what 
ever shall we do with him ? I intended to begin 
weaving my carpet this very day !” He was very 
sorry after he had scrambled loose, and putting his 
arms tenderly around his mother, promised to mend 
the mischief he had done, and be more careful 
hereafter ; and his mother, always tender of him, 
kissed him, smoothed the knob raised on the back 
of his head and told him that he “ was as awkward 
as a young colt,” upon which he laughed, and 
gathering up the yarn he had pitched down, fol- 
lowed her down stairs. 

Later in the day, the Elder came into the sitting 
room — the old homestead where we first saw the 
Flemmings — and saw his guest standing at a 
window, looking disconsolately out at the pitiless 
white storm. It^was ironing-day, and Eva and 
Hope were ironing the family linen ; rosy, cheerful 
and happy, they smoothed and folded the spotless 
garments, their chatter, and laughter, and scraps 
of song, filling the room with homely but sweet 
music as they fiitted to and from the fire, and from 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


41 


their broad table to the great rack where they 
hung the fragrant linen to air. Mrs. Flemming 
was getting dinner, and Eeuben was sitting by the 
kitchen fire, making strenuous exertions to half- 
sole his boot, by way of being useful ; but his long 
white fingers were in his way; they tangled the 
thread, and put things out of line, and got punched 
with the awl and cracked with the hammer so often 
that he felt like throwing the whole affair into the 
fire. And so the waif was left alone to his thoughts. 
Eva and Hope, in the tender womanly pity of their 
hearts, had spoken now and then to him, and he 
had replied with a genuine readiness which showed 
how much inclined he was to be social and friendly ; 
but there was their work to be done, while the 
thought of his being a papist and a wholesome 
dread of their mother acted as a sort of moral 
check-rein on their kindly natures; so he had 
dropped into silence, and was brooding over the 
prospect. 

‘‘ I am sorry to learn from my son that you have 
lost your pack,” said the Elder kindly. 

“Faith, sir, and I have, Fm afeard; and it’s no 
irifle for a poor man like myself to lose,” he said, 
as he turned and took the chair his host offered 
him. 

“It may be lying within arm’s length of us, 
Mr,—” 


42 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


McCue, Patrick McCue, sir, at your service.” 

“We will get shovels presently, Mr. McCue, and 
turn over the drifts around the door where w^e 
found you last night ; it may be lying there under 
the snow. Do you remember having it when you 
came towards the house ?” 

“Yes, sir; yes, sir — surely,” said Patrick, bright- 
ening up. “ It is the last thing I remimber, seeing 
the lights and feehng to see if my pack was safe ; 
but I niver see such mountains of snow, and it 
takes the heart out of me to think how it’ll iver be 
found.” 

“Well, we must hope for the best, Mr. McCue; 
if it is lost, there is your life to be thankful for.” 

“That’s thrue, sir, thanks be to God and the 
Blessed Virgin first, thin to yourself, and all of 
yez,” he said fervently. Down dropped the Elder’s 
heavy eyebrows, and his forehead grew red. Must 
he speak ? Would it be a christianly act to rebuke 
this benighted mortal? Yes, he thought so. Was 
it not his duty, there before liis children, to break 
a silence that might otherwise seem like pusillani- 
mity, or consent to strange irrational practices? 
It seemed so to his well balanced judgment ; and 
he asked : 

“ What religion are you of, Mr. McCue ?” 

“ What religion, sir ? I’m none of ;four religions ; 
I’m a Catholic, God Almighty be thanked,” said 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


43 


the man, opening wide his dull grey eyes and look- 
ing full in the Elder’s face. 

‘‘ Ai’e you convinced, and firmly persuaded, that 
what you profess is right, and that it is a faith unto 
salvation ?” 

‘‘ No, I’m not convinced, nor persuaded, nor any 
of that, sir ; I know it ; and sorra a bit do I want 
of any other. If I ever want to turn hay then I’ll 
go to Algiers, where I was once before,” exclaimed 
McCue. ‘‘Yes, sir! I’m satisfied for this world, 
and the next, with the ould faith.” 

There was much in this to irritate the Elder’s 
religious ideas ; there was, to his thinking, an arro- 
gance, a profanity,, and a something in the Irish- 
man’s reply, which came very near calling him a 
heathen, that tried his patience ; but he was not 
one, as we know, to quarrel with a man on his own 
hearthstone on account of his religion ; but the 
crowning paradox of it all was, the man had said 
“ I’m none of your religions. I’m a Catholic ac- 
cordingly then, to his views, it was an acknowledg- 
ment that he (the man) was without religion, the 
Catholic religion or faith being in his opinion be- 
yond the pale of what he (the Elder) knew as 
Christianity. What had he then? What iras be- 
ing a Catholic? 'Was that a religion? He thought 
not. Catholics being idolaters, and where there was 
idolatry there could be no religion; then the 


44 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tliouglit came up before liim witli a dark splendor 
like one of Salvator Eosa’s pictures, of one “ clothed 
in scarlet, who vras drunk with the blood of the 
saints.” But the Elder said nothing of aU this to 
Patrick McCue, who, ignorant as he was hi all 
worldly lore, could have enlightened him upon 
many points on wdiich he deemed him ignorant, 
and might perhaps have used his fists by way of 
emphasis, as is an Irishman’s way when his holy 
faith is insulted. So the Elder, in his grave and 
gentle voice, only said : 

“ The grace of God is sufficient for all men, and 
I pray that He may open your eyes to the truth as 
it is in Christ. I mean no offence, friend, but we 
are a simple. God-fearing family, serving Him in 
spirit and taking no account of outward observan- 
ces and signs ; and while you tarry with us, which 
you are heartily welcome to do until the roads are 
safe, you will be doing us a favor if you will omit 
making the signs over yourself that you did this 
morning at the table.” 

‘‘ And is it the sign of the Cross ?” cried Patrick 
McCue, staring with wide open eyes. “ Why, man 
alive ! I always blesses myself before and after 
meat, and Pd be an ill-mannered cur not to, sure- 

ly” 

“ It is an offence to us, such practices,” said the 
Elder ; ‘‘ and I do not think it too much to aslc you 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


45 


to omit tliem while under my roof, at least at my 
table.” 

Sir,” flamed out Patrick McCue, and do you 
think I’d be ashamed of the blessed cross of Christ, 
if the whole world stood forenent me ? I, that was 
redeemed by it, baptized by it, and expects to make 
the sign of it with the last Hfe that’s left in my fin- 
gers. Let the Jews that crucified Him, and them 
that houlds with them, be offinded, but sorra a bit 
of a J ew, or a black bitther Protestant, is Patrick 
McCue ; and, sir, with many thanks for yOur kind- 
ness, I’ll be off at the risk of my life in the snow, 
sooner than stay where I daren’t make the sign of 
the Cross.” 

And Patrick McCue got up, buttoned up his 
rough coat to the chin, and ^\^as about putting on 
his fur cap, when the Elder laid his hand upon his 
shoulder and began to speak : ‘‘ Sit down, sit down. 
No man ever left my house in a passion or in a 
storm. There must be sincerity in your error, or 
you would not be so ready to die for it. Such do- 
ings are strange to us, but you are my guest, and 
hospitality was always something sacred with the 
Flemmings. I have done my duty before God and 
my children in protesting against what I consider 
idolatrous ; but while you remain here, the subject 
shall not be renewed.” Then the Elder could not, 
for the hfe of him, help wondering if after ail it 


46 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


was a very rank error, or even idolatrous for a 
Christian to make upon his body the sign of that 
cross upon which the Son of God paid such an in- 
finite price for his salvation ; but he only said : I 
will go and fetch the snow-shovels, and we will 
search for j^our pack while Patrick McCue 
thought : “ Well, and surely this bates Bannagher ! 
first to find myself someAvhere away at the North 
Pole, and kilt among the snow-drifts, then to be 
tould that I’m little better than a pagan, and 
mustn’t bless myself; and the man with sich a 
straight, kind face on him all the time. Sorra a 
bit if I know whether he’s poking fun at me or not, 
it seems so out-and-out foolish ; and. if he’s in 
airnest, bedad ! but he’s the most benighted man 
I ever met this side the Algerines.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

HOW THE DAY PASSED, AND HOW^ IT ENDED. 

Elder Flemming came in with snow- shovels and 
gave one to Patrick McCue, and they went out to 
search among the drifts for the missing pack. 
Nearly up to their shoulders in snow, they worked 
with a will, clearing a space around the door and a 
ew rods beyond, without success, until the Irish- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


47 


man, much of whose life had been spent in warm, 
snnny latitudes, felt disheartened and benumbed, 
and would have given up the search and gone back 
to the fire ; but the sight of Flemming, w’hose face 
was ruddy with exercise, who worked on, plying 
his shovel vigorously while he tossed the great 
drifts aside a"^ lightly as a ship tosses the wdiite 
foam from her track on the seas, made him ashamed, 
and he bent his will to his shivering hands, pitch- 
ing off the snow here and there as well as he could, 
seeing that he was cold and nearly out of breath — 
when suddenly, just when Flemming himself began 
to think the search useless, there it lay under a 
drift he had finished shovelling off, just wiiere the 
broad fiagged footway bordered with myrtle turned 
in from the road — its leather casing still frozen, but 
otherwise uninjured. Patrick McCue w^as over- 
joyed, and W'ould have poured out his thanks on 
the spot in voluble eloquence and pious invoca- 
tions, but the Elder hurried in to avoid hearing 
them. ‘‘ He had done his duty,” he thought, in 
helping the man to recover his pack, but that in- 
volved no obligation on him to listen to his idle 
and superstitious prayers.” He told Eeuben to 
show Patrick McCue his sleeping place to stow his 
pack in, and Reuben turned to his mother to know 
where it ought to be, who briefly said : Over 
father’s work-room;” and thither they went. It 


48 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


was a good enougii nook, furnislied with a cot, one 
or two chairs, a table on which lay a Bible, and an 
old spider-legged washstand, with cracked basin 
and pitcher- — but comfortless looking and bare. 
However, this did not disturb Patrick, who was 
thankful to have a place to himself, since with the 
quick perception of his nature he had come to feel 
himself unwelcome, and his religion abhorred. 
Here, at least, he could bless himself in the name 
of the Holy Trinity, knowing it to be a sign of his 
belief in a crucified God, whose passion and death 
it kept him reminded of, and nourished in his soul 
the divine virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity ; 
Faith, by the belief it signified in the death of the 
Son of God for his salvation ; Hope, nourished and 
increased by this belief; Charity, or the love of 
God, excited by the sacred sign which represented 
to him the love which God showed mankind by 
dying on the cross for him. No wonder Patrick 
McCue made much of the sign of the cross, and 
was ready to brave peril and death for its sake ; no 
wonder he was glad to be where he could bless 
himself to his heart’s content, and ask the interces- 
sion of the Blessed Virgin and the saints, and say 
his beads, and pray after his OAvn fashion for the 
benighted souls who had taken him in from perish- 
ing in the snow, without let or hindrance ; and 
pray for their conversion he would to the day of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


49 


liis death, “ for,” he reasoned, ‘‘ they’ve done more 
than give me a cup of cold water for the love of 
God, though mebbe they don’t know it ; and it is 
unknownst that He ever let sich like actions fall to 
the ground unnoticed. Any way. I’ll say my ro- ^ 
sary for them, morn and night, though faith! it 
does seem like thrying to move a mountain to pray 
for their conversion ; but there’s nothing like thry- 
ing, “and if my faith’s no bigger than a millet- seed. 
I’ll trust to the Blessed Virgin and the saints to 
make up what I lack.” All these thoughts passed 
through Patrick McCue’s mind while he was un- 
strapping his pack, never uttering a word but tug- ' 
ging away at the straps and buckles, and unlock- 
ing the padlocks at each end, until finally he open- 
ed it, Eeuben looking on with all the natural 
curiosity of a boy, to see what would come of it. 
The pedler thrust his hand into the depths of the 
pack and drew out a small crimson-covered book, 
blazoned with gilt, and altogether dazzling, which 
he gave with a beaming smile to Eeuben, saying : 
Faith ! it’s the very one I was looking afther ; and 
do you take it, my lad, for a bit of a keepsake. 
It’s the poems of my countryman. Tommy Moore, 
and you’ll find the beautifullest things in it that’ll 
do to pray by, to swear by, or love by; for 3^ou 
must know he’s got some sacred songs there that 
’ud melt the sowl of you; and some of the stirring- 


50 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


est ditties about ould Ireland, that rouses the 
blood agin the Sassenach till it’s like to boil over ; 
and the love songs, honey, bate Bannagher — rale 
• genuine poetry — ^take it, my lad, with a hearty wel- 
come.” And Patrick McCue thrust it into Reuben’s 
^ willing hand, who could have fallen upon liis neck 
and kissed him out of gratitude for a new book; 
but after the first glow there, fell a sudden shame 
upon him, and he said: “ I have never been used 
to taking gifts : my father will give me money to 
buy it of you if I ask him , but I thank you, sir, 
indeed I do.” 

“ There’s no money could buy that book my lad, 
afther I’ve offered it as a free gift ; and if you don’t 
take it. I’ll make short work of it by putting it into 
the hottest place I can find under the logs down 
there,” said Patrick McCue, buckling up his pack 
with an irate sparkle in his dull eyes. ‘‘ Where I 
came from it’s not the way, bedad, to slap a man 
in the face with a gift offered out of gratitude, as if 
he was a beggar, too mean and too poor to be no- 
ticed.” Then Reuben, so delicate in all his per- 
ceptions, felt another sort of shame, for he saw that 
he had wounded the heart of one wno, under heavy 
obligations to them all, had sought in this sponta- 
neous sort of a way to show his gratitude ; and he 
said: •'‘I am glad to have the book Mr. McCue, 
only I was afraid I might be robbing you ; but I’ll 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


51 


take it with many thanks, and keep it for yotir 
sake.” Then Eeuben opened the book at “ Para- 
dise and the Peri;” his greedy eyes devoured the 
verses, while his imagination and heart, dazzled 
and glowing, felt as if under a spell of enchant- 
ment ; his golden hair fell over his flushed cheeks, 
his dreamy eyes flashed and his heart swelled with 
great pulses of dehght while he read ; indeed he 
clean forgot Patrick McCue and everything , else, 
until suddenly his vision of delight was dispelled 
by his mother’s voice calling them with rather a 
sharp accent to come to dinner ; then he thanked 
the pedler again in his warm, boyish fashion, and 
put the book in his pocket, feeling richer in its pos- 
session than if some one had given him a string of 
diamonds, “ I Imew you’d like it,” said Patrick, 
with a kindly smile ; and they went down to dinner. 

Mrs. Flemming felt it to be a flery ordeal to sit 
at the table with the Irish pedler ; and when he 
blessed himself, after the Elder’s lengthy and so- 
norous grace, she winced and snapped her eyes as 
if hot iron had touched her flesh, but said nothing. 
Then the Elder began to ask him some questions 
about Boston, which neither he nor any of his 
family had ever visited, it being a hundred miles 
distant, and in those days the facilities for travel- 
ling were few, and at the best difficult . as well as 
dangerous, so that prudent and timid men were 


52 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


deterred from attempting tlie journey; but as 
Patrick could give liim but little information about 
this famous New England city, except that he was 
arrested, fined and put in prison, and not treated 
too kindly there, “ for just taking a suck at his 
pipe on Sunday evening, coming from Vespers, and 
was troubling nobody at all wid the smoke of it, . 
being in the open street ; ’bating that, it seemed to 
be a flourishing sort of a town, but it looked small 
to him just landed from Dublin, where the English 
sogers, bad as they be, lets a fellow smoke his dud- 
keen day in and day out without molesting him. 

This was not very satisfactory about Boston to 
any one except Mrs. Flemming, who, although she 
did not say so, was delighted that the pedler had 
been made to suffer for breaking the Sabbath, and 
thought Boston must be a most godly place. Then 
some one asked him about his voyage across the 
seas, and the Elder wanted to know something 
about the vine-growing in France; and Patrick 
McCue, who had travelled here and there with his \ 
eyes wide open, gave such pleasant accounts of it 
all, mixed up with strange and perilous adventures, 
and now and then such racy descriptions of his 
own blunders, that two or three times a peal of 
hearty laughter ran around the board ; and Mrs. 
Flemming, even while she knitted her brows to 
pretend she was neither interested or amused. 


THE FLEMMIISrGS. 


53 


wished to herself that “Nicholas were there to 
enjoy it all.” Eva and Hope were enchanted; it 
was all new to them, this free and easy way of tell- 
ing things they had been dreaming of all their 
lives, and thought of as they thought of the possi- 
bilities of the moon, as mythical and as unattaina- 
ble ; and they were sorry when there was no more 
pumpkin pie to be eaten, for no excuse was suffi- 
cient in this systematic puritan family to linger 
around the table when a meal was ffiaished ; so with 
the glamour of Patrick McCue’s adventures, like a 
new atmosphere around them, they rose from their 
chairs, standing while their father “returned 
thanks” and the Irishman made devoutly the 
blessed sign of the cross upon himself, which gave 
them all a sensation like the sudden discharge of a 
pail of cold water in their faces. But he was noth- 
ing daunted ; it was as natural to the spiritual life 
of him to make this blessed sign as it was to his 
natural life to breathe, and he could not for the 
soul of him understand how any rational being, who 
was not a heathen, could object to a symbol which 
meant so much. But he sat down with Mr. Flem- 
ming, and smoked with him, and fell back into the 
conversation which was interrupted by their rising 
from the table; and later, when the Elder went 
away to his “workroom,” and Mrs. Flemming 
started to go to look after the calf, and its mother, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


54 

whose udder over-full made her low complainingly, 
he began to tell the girls about the dances of the 
Spanish peasants, and a bull-fight he saw in 
Seville. 

I say, mother,” called the Elder, who saw the 
little womam flit past his door, “ let me go ; it is 
very cold. Go back to the fire.” 

“Tut,” she replied, coming in for a moment, 
“ I’m not so old or thin-blooded, father, that I can’t 
attend to my own business, and all under shelter 
too. I’m warm enough.” So she was, for the fer- 
ment of her blood over the papistical ways of Pat- 
rick McCue had not yet cooled off. 

“I spoke to the man about his doings,” began 
Flemming. 

“I wonder now ! ” exclaimed she. 

“ I did indeed, mother ; not offensively, mind you ; 
but I did. I told hin^ that his cross, and praying 
to the saints, was an offence to the simplicity of 
our rehgion, and asked him to refrain from such 
usage while with us.” 

“I thought you couldn’t stand it, father, any 
more than I,” she said approvingly. “ And what 
did he say ?” 

^ “ He got up, when he understood what I meant, 

buttoned up his coat and put on his bat, and was 
about going out into the storm, ‘for,’ he said, ‘ rather 
than stay under a roof where he dare not make the 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


55 


sign of the cross upon him, he’d try his chances in 
the snow ; and if he perished God would be merci- 
ful to him and he was going, mother — going, re- 
member, to his death ; but I held him back, seeing 
his sincerity in being ready to perish for what he 
thought was right — and told him to stay and wel- 
come, that his conscience should not be interfered 
with again.” 

That was manful of him, father, to say the least 
of it,” said Mrs. I^lemming after a thoughtful pause. 
‘‘ It beats me, though, that a man should be ready 
to die for so small a thing as that.” 

It seems so at first thought ; but as he sees it — 
mind, mother, as he sees it — he would have felt 
guilty of denying his whole Faith, of which the 
cross is a symbol, by putting it under foot at any 
man’s bidding. I am ashamed to have asked him. 

‘‘Land’s sake’s, father, what may that be? 
Listen now ! The man must be singing ; singing 
some of his ungodly songs there, where the Word 
has been read, and the hymns of Zion have been 
sung for more than a thousand years ; and now — I 
wonder ! there’s a jingle lilie sleigh-bells keeping 
time. Hope and Eva shall come away,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Flemming, a move towards the door to call 
them ; but Flemming laid his hand upon her shoul- 
der and detained her, saying : “Let them be, 
mother ; let them be. The j^oung and unregene- 


56 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


rate are always fond of novelties, and we must be 
wary liow we go about pulling up the tares, lest we 
pull up good wheat with them. They are good 
children, according to the natural law, and a httle 
harmless amusement won’t harm them.” 

“ Ah, father ! no wonder that people say you are 
wanting in orthodox discipline in your over-indul- 
gence of your children. It wasn’t so in my young 
days. But I can’t stay here another minute ; that 
cow is needing me,” said Mrs. Flemming, in tones 
of reproof. 

Yes, it was Patrick McCue, singing. Feeling 
more genial after the bull-fight, he began to tell 
Hope and Eva about the Spanish muleteers, and 
ended by singing a muleteer song while he accom- 
panied himself by softly jingling the tongs against 
the brass glob.e of the andirons, in such good time 
and Tvith such light touches that the girls almost 
imagined themselves on some romantic slope on 
the Sierra Nevada, listening to the bells of the 
mules and the songs of their leader as they wound 
tlieir way among the mountain passes, far above 
the blue waters of the Guadalquiver. It was a 
treat to these isolated young things, a novelty so 
enjoyable, to hear the music and language of other 
lands sung in a clear flexible tenor which was 
melody itself, that they forgot everything — even 
Bunyan’s picture of the Pope sitting at the door of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


57 


a cave, with bones and skulls strewn around, watch- 
ing like an ogre for unwary pilgrims, to devour 
them body and soul — and asked for more, and yet 
more, until the old black rafters rang again with 
the songs of old; they forgot their wholesome 
dread of dispfeasing their little mother ; they for- 
got Patrick McCue’s homely face and red head,' his 
superstitions and idolatries, while his voice, like 
one of those exquisitely toned old Straduarius vio- 
lins in its clumsy weatherworn case, uncultivated 
but rarely sweet, melted into some of the ballads 
of his own Emerald Isle, which he sang with such 
pathos that the sewing dropped from their fingers 
moistened with tears that they took no note of. 
In the midst of it all, a sudden illumination glori- 
fied the room: a sharp bright gleam of sunlight 
burst through the western window — the prison-gates 
were open, and the golden gleams swept through 
broken bars of cloud, fringing the black overhang- 
ing edges above with brilliance, and crowning the 
snow- clad mountain peaks with diadems of irides- 
cent light, and their slopes with a tissue of spang- 
led silver : while the scattered snow-fiakes, large 
and fleecy, that fell slowly here and there, gemmed 
and reddened by the setting sun, floated in the air 
like the plumage of some tropical bird swept cap- 
tive by the storm-winds from her nest in the nut- 
meg trees of the Orient. With a joyous cry Eva 


58 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


and Hope sprang to the window, while Patrick 
McCue hailed the sunset splendors as a sign of 
promise and home. 

The night was cloudless, and the distant ridges 
and crests, the far-off peaks and boulders, the near- 
er slopes of the mountains, all glistening in robes 
of crystal as the full moon anointed them with 
silvery chrisms, rose silent and beautiful beneath 
the spangled heavens, while Orion, glittering in full 
armor, seemed to rest his jewelled sandals upon 
their heads. There was no human sound to dis- 
turb this grand repose, only a low quivering chime 
rang out now and then, whenever the wind soughed 
through the glittering ice-covered trees of the forest 
belts, smiting them like cymbals with a soft clash 
together. But presently a confused sound of voices, 
full of lusty cheer, intermingled with chorus 
and huzza, was heard in the distance, drawing 
nearer and nearer towards the “ Old Homestead,” 
and before long the cause appeared. The young 
men of the country-side,"led by Nicholas Flemming 
and John Wilde, were out with their ox-teams, 
their heavy sleighs, and snow-shovels, breaking the 
road by moonlight, and when they got in sight of 
the lights gleaming through door and window of 
the ‘‘ Old Homestead,” their cheers rang out loud 
and clear on the night, while the panting oxen and 
tired horses, scenting the well-filled racks, put forth 


THE FLEMIVIINGS. 


59 


all their sinewy strength to get to them. Mrs. 
Flemming was soon clasped in the arms of her 
great broad-shouldered son, w^ho, “ bearded like a 
pard,” hfted his little mother up and kissed her 
fondly, while she whispered : ‘'Thank God that you 
are safe, Nicholas ; I have had an uneasy time 
about you.” 

“ And I up there at the Deacon’s, having the 
best time I ever had in my life,” he said laughing, 
as he put her down to kiss his sisters, shake hands 
with his father, and pull Eeuben’s golden hair: 
then all of a sudden he saw Patrick McCue and he 
exclaimed: “Hilloa, you here! I thought the 
wolves had eaten you, my friend ;” while he shook 
him heartily by the hand. 

“And I’m sure, sir, after we crossed each other 
up yonder last night, I never expected to see you 
alive again ; but you see how things come together. 
Almighty God was holding you in safe keeping, 
your people here saved my life ; may the Blessed 
Mother of God reward them,” answered the irre- 
pressible Patrick, with beaming countenance. 

“ Hilloa 1 The what ? but never mind, it’s a 

free country. Mother, get us some supper. John 
Wilde don’t want any ; but I’m hungry enough, I 
can tell you.” John Wilde and Hope were standing 
apart, he still holding the hand she had held out to 
welcome him, whispering words to each other that 


60 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


brought a softer light into their eyes and kindled a 
warmer glow upon their cheeks, for they were be- 
trothed lovers. 


CHAPTEE V. 

PATEICK McCUE’s KEEPSAKES. 

The table was soon spread with a generous and 
plentiful meal ; for except the salaratus which the 
New England house-wives will poison their bread 
and pastries with, there are no people in the world 
who understand better what the art of cooking and 
the spreading of a hospitable table means. On this 
occasion there were two cold roast fowls, a dish of 
savory flitches of bacon just fried to a turn ; there 
were apple and pumpkin pies, home-made cheese, 
preserves, pickles, white biscuits, doughnuts, and 
two or three large loaves of bread, flanked by 
tankards of cidei: and plates piled up with great 
rosy apples and nuts — while the roaring fire cast 
its ruddy light like a broad smile of welcome over 
it all ; and the young stalwart farmers, with laugh 
and jest, drew round the board, and after “ Thanks” 
were offered by the Elder, fell to like hungry kites, 
doing ample justice to the inviting fare, while Mrs. 
Elemming flitted around, attending with compla- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


61 


cent happiness to the needs of all — for the little 
woman dearly loved an occasion like this, when 
she could demonstrate her domestic superiority by 
showing that however sudden the emergency her 
well supplied and well-filled larder could bear the 
strain. Hope and John Wilde sat beside each 
other, quietly happy ; and Eva, who was thought 
to be something of a flirt in the country-side, enter- 
tained two or three of her shy admirers on the op- 
posite side of the table. But Patrick McCue by 
little and little became the life of the company. 
Some of the youngsters, seeing that he was a dull- 
looking fellow, began to chaff him, but the New 
Hampshire flints struck such fire out of his Irish 
wit that he completely turned the laugh on the 
other side, and kept up the fun to the great delight 
of them all. It was late when they left the table, 
long past the usual bedtime, but they sat in merry 
groups around, talking over their bear-hunts and 
other adventures, until Mrs. Flemming, assisted by 
her daughters, cleared away the fragments of the 
feast and placed everything in perfect order, leav- 
ing only the Elder’s table, upon which lay open the 
old family Bible, in the centre of the room. Patrick 
McCue was in the corner of the room next to the 
fire, in a high chat with Nicholas and Eva ; Mrs. 
Flemming was seated, at last, in her quaint old 
chair; and Hope, with John Wilde and Eeuben, 


62 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


were sitting near her, while a cheerful hum of voi- 
ces filled the room. Suddenly the Elder cleared 
his throat, and going to his table, sat down, and a 
deep silence fell upon them all, which was at last 
broken by his grave level tones, as he read the 
fourth chapter of the fourth book of Kings, and 
Patrick McCue found himself in the midst of family 
prayers. He would have stepped off to bed if he 
had known what was coming, and said the dear old 
comforting prayers of his Faith ; but he was fairly 
cornered, and listened to the narrative of the mi- 
raculous things done by the prophet of God, not as 
to a far-off tale of dreamland, or cloudland, never 
to be realized on earth ; for he knew that Almighty 
God had never ceased working miracles as great 
as these, by the hands of His saints, down to the 
present time ; his Faith was a living, deathless 
faith — neither torpid or sleeping, full of anxious, 
fitful dreams ; and it seemed as natural to him to 
hear the wondeful story of Elisius, and the Su- 
namitess, as if he had been there and seen it all. 
He sat and listened, gravely twirling his thumbs 
over each other, benignly thankful that his enter- 
tainers were not the pagans he took them to be ; 
when the first lines of a familiar hymn being given 
out, they all sang together, old and young, and 
Patrick thought it sounded pleasantly, all those full 
round voices swelling out in devotional harmony to 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


63 


one of the old quaint puritan airs ; and if he had 
only been out of it he would have enjoyed it yet 
more — for the man had a fine natural ear for mu- 
sic — but he was caught, and couldn’t tell fairly 
what to do with himself, until' they all knelt down, 
then he drew out his rosary, composed of large 
black beads strung on a brass wire, to which was 
suspended a brass crucifix some four inches long ; 
the jingle as he took the beads from his breast 
pocket made Eva start round, and she saw him 
bless himself reverently with the crucifix, then kiss 
it, after which his lips moved in an earnest fashion 
while slipped bead after bead through his fingers, 
all to her utter distraction and the confusion of 
Nicholas, who also saw him and thought him crazy. 
The next morning, about ten o’clock, the young men 
were to start with the teams and sleds on their 
road-breaking mission, to unite with other parties 
for the same purpose, and thought they might pos- 
sibly get as far as Centre Harbor. Patrick McCue 
was going with them, and Mrs. Flemming thankful 
to him for going ; and with a womanly sort of pity 
for the lone stranger who sat on her hearthstone, 
but without the faintest relenting towards the su- 
perstitious and papistical side 'of him, packed a 
basket ‘with provisions, not forgetting a bottle of 
their best cider,which would have put to shame the 
brightest Chquot by its sparkle, and gave it into 


64 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


the care of Nicholas with the strict charges to give 
it to him on the way, for she did not want to be 
thanked for it. She shook hands with him ; and 
wished him well,” the Elder shook hands, so did 
Keuben and the girls, to whom he whispered : 

God bless the winsome face of yez ; may the 
saints hould yez in their keeping, for your kindness 
to a homeless stranger. You’ll find a picture, and 
a little image of the blessed Blessed Lady, up 
wdiere I slept; and may she bring yez both into 
the fold of her Son.” No one heard what he said 
except the sisters, and it was like Greek to them, 
so far as his meaning went ; then the waif of the 
storm, the simple-minded, uneducated, unpolished 
Irish pedler, with his pack over his round shoul- 
deres, went his way, leaving what ? Little browm 
sparrows sometimes, in flying, drop from their bills 
a rare seed, which, falling into the earth, germi- 
nates and growls into ^strength and beauty, cover- 
ing with vines, blossoms, leaves and fruits some 
ruined w^all or blasted tree, aftording shade and re- 
freshment to the noonday traveller and shelter for 
the song-birds at night ; the wind goes on its mis- 
sion wafting eastward the germs of mighty trees, 
which in time cast broad shadows on the mountain 
sides, or stretch their wide boughs over the “peace- 
ful brown homes in the valley; man’s mission is 
more mighty still, for Almighty God in His own 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


65 


wise designs sometimes makes use of the ignorant 
and humble as messengers of His will, as prophets 
of His coming, to plant the seed of His word in 
desert places, to make them blossom as the rose. 

"When the Elder went into his workroom, after 
the departure of the young men, to see about 
mending the double sleigh harness, he saw a neatly 
wrapped package lying on his desk. He took it up 
and saw that it was addressed to “Mister Flem- 
ming, from his grateful friend, Patrick McCue;” 
then he snapped the string, opened the wrapper, 
and found a book neatly bound in leather; and 
turning to the title-page, he read : “ The End of 

Keligious Controversy; by a Catholic Divine.”^' 
A flush mounted to his face and he closed the book 
with a snap, and lifting the lid of his desk, threw it 
in, thinking : “To waste time over the pages of 
such a book as that would be not only idle, but 
culpable. He w^ould some day wrap it up, direct it 
to Patrick McCue, and send it to Boston by the 
first person he heard of going there.” Then he 
went about his harness-mending and forgot all 
about it. 

Mrs. Flemming, who was busy over her churn, 
sent Hope and Eva “to take the bedclothes off the 
cot the Irishman had slept in the night before, to 


♦ Millner’s End of Controversy. 


66 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


fold tlie comforts and blankets and put them in the 
press, and throw the sheets and pillow-case among 
the soiled house linen ; then lock the door, as she 
had no use for the room.” 

Full of curiosity to see what Patrick McCue 
meant when he bade them good-by, Hope and Eva 
lost no time but ran up stairs, and on entering the 
room the first object that greeted their sight, 
standing upon the Bible where he had placed it, 
was a plaster cast, about a foot high, of the Blessed 
Virgin holding in her arms her divine Son, and 
lying near her feet was a picture of the Crucifixion, 
in which she was represented standing by His 
Cross, bearing with Him the bitter passion and 
pain she could neither soothe or avert. It w’as a 
high-colored, badly executed print, but it told the 
story with a graphic power which could not be mis- 
understood. This then was the “ image ” for Hope, 
and that the ‘‘picter” for Eva. They did not then 
comprehend whom the ‘‘ image” represented ; they 
thought it might be some poet-sculptor’s idea of 
“Charity,” or “Peace,” or “Maternal Love,” but 
whatever it might mean, it was beautiful in its 
holy expression of serene peace. But the picture 
thrilled them through ; it was the first one of the 
kind they had ever seen, and although they had 
read and heard of the Crucifixion ever since they 
could remember, it never seemed to them such a 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


67 


reality as now — while they stood, Eva’s head lean- 
ing on Hope’s shoulder, gazing upon it. 

‘‘Only think, Hope,” said Eva in a low voice, 
which had something of her father’s tone in it ; 
“ only think of her being there, close beside Him, 
seeing all that was done and not able to give Him 
a drop of cold water, or even wipe the sweat and 
blood from His face.” 

‘f Whom do 3^ou mean, Eva ? Who is it do you 
think ? ” asked Hope slowly. 

“ Don’t you see, that must be Mary, the Mother 
of Jesus, standing there, for we read in the Bible 
that “ she stood by the Cross ; ” but oh, Hope ! lioiv 
could she bear it ; for was she not human like our- 
selves?” Ah yes! they could understand this 
much because it appealed strongly to their wo- 
manly sympathies, but the rest was a sealed book 
to these fair Puritan maidens, and the time not yet 
at hand when “ out of many hearts thoughts should 
be revealed ” to them. 

“ I think,” said Hope at last : that we had better 
finish up and get back to our sewing. It seems to 
me that you might keep the picture. I see no 
harm in it, although I fear that mother, if she 
knew of them,would think both these were “ graven 
images,” and destroy them ; but she never comes 
here, and there’s no use in fretting her by letting 
her know. I will leave the image here ; it can 


68 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


hurt no one, and it is certainly very pretty. I 
should like to put it in the ‘ best room,’ but imagine 
the excitement that would come of it,” said Hope 
with a little laugh. 

Yes ! I can see old Father Eay peering at it 
over his big horn spectacles, and our little mother 
on tiptoe with righteous anger, for of course she 
would take it for granted that it was some idola- 
trous Eomish image, just because Patrick McCue 
left it here,” said Eva laughing, while she and her 
sister folded the comforts and quilts. I shall put 
the picture between the leaves of my Bible ; as 
you say, Hope, it can’t hurt me ; indeed I think it 
will do me good whenever I see it, for it brings 
that sorrowful scene on Calvary so plainly before 
me, and makes it seem so real, that I can almost 
imagine I saw it all. I tell you, Hope, that all 
Father Eay’s preaching from now until doomsday 
could not give me such thoughts as that picture 
does.” 

“ How strange that a papist should care enough 
about our Saviour to have a picture hke that,” said 
Hope ; for you know, Eva, that in John Bunyan’s 
book he says that the Pope of Eome is Antichrist ; 
but I suppose the man bought it with other things 
to sell again.” 

“ It is very likely. No, I don’t think he Imows 
much about the plan of salvation, for instead of lis- 


a HE ELEMMINGkS. 


69 


tening to fatlier’s solemn prayer last night, he 
hauled out a great string of black beads and made 
that sign on himseh again, then began whispering 
to himself while he counted them one by one ; in- 
deed he did, Hope, and Nicholas laughed as if it 
was great fun. Any way, I’m glad he’s gone, and 
more than glad to have the picture. But, Hope, 
why does mother never come here ? I never heard 
that before.” 

‘‘I’ll tell you, Eva, because you might some day 
or other ask mother, and that would never do. I 
never heard her say anything about it ; but old 
Sarah Gill, who used to live here when we w^ere lit- 
tle things, to help mother, told me all about it one 
day when I went to read to her. One night an old 
Indian squaw, who had been in the habit of com- 
ing here to beg, was taken in out of a storm, pretty 
much as the pedler was, only she was ill, and died 
that night in this room. Mother was leaning over 
her, doing all she could to soothe and make her 
more comfortable, when all at once she screamed, 
and fastening her long bony fingers around moth- 
er’s throat, sprang out of bed, and they both fell 
together on the floor. When Sarah Gill, who had 
gone down for mustard and hot water, was coming 
up with them, she heard the terrible cry ; and hur- 
^ rying in, found mother nearly suffocated and the 
squaw stark dead, lying across her, with fingers 


70 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


still clutching her throat. It was some time before 
she revived, and has never entered this room since. 
You must take care and never speak of it before 
mother, for Sarah Gill says that it always gave her 
a dreadful nervous turn whenever father or she re- 
ferred to it ; and she finally told them both never 
to speak of it in her presence again, or before the 
children, as she wished it to be entirely forgotten.” 

Poor little mother ! It was frightful ; no won- 
der she can’t bear the sight of an Indian, and 
avoids this room. Did you ever hear that it was 
haunted, Hope ?” asked Eva. 

‘‘ What nonsense, Eva ! I thought you had more 
sense than that. Such a question is worthy of 
Sarah Gill, who hears death-watches, and believes 
in signs and witches. No! There is nothing to 
dread here except the thought of the dreadful 
thing that happened here long years ago, when 
God was so merciful as to save our mother, alive, 
out of the deadly clutch of a poor delirious wretch 
who was not conscious of what she was doing and 
had always loved her with the fidelity and humble- 
ness of a dog.” 

It was dreadful. But I guess we had better go 
now. I shall be careful never to give a hint to 
mother about this ; but indeed, Hope, it makes me 
shiver to think of it,” said Eva, as they went out, ^ 
locking the door after them ; and having put away 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


71 


the comforts and quilts, they ran lightly down 
stairs and were soon chatting merrily over their 
sewing, about the grand sleighride they expected 
to have as soon as Nicholas and John Wilde came 
back. They were not conscious of the little seed 
dropped into the virgin soil of their hearts by the 
soft wind that had breathed over them ; but it was 
nestling there invisibly — cumbering nothing, so 
light was it, and giving them no uneasiness by its 
presence; but by-and-by it would begin to send 
out its fibres, and spring into beautiful life. 

Cold weather now set steadily in ; such cold as 
people who live in southern lands can scarcely im- 
agine. The roads, hard packed with frozen snow, 
were as smooth as polished marble ; and over them 
from morning until night, from night sometimes 
until morning, gay cutters and large double sleighs 
filled with young people rosy with health and life, 
and old people whose cheeks wore the bloom of a 
winter apple, and children shouting and laughing 
with glee, skimmed here and there, up and down 
the country, to the jingle of numberless bells, which 
tinkled far and near in scales of sweet-sounding 
notes. It was the gay season of the sedate puritan 
neighborhood, and much visiting was done, much 
tea was drunk, and warm hospitalities exchanged. 
Of course there was gossip, and scandal, and match- 
making, and even merry-making, and heart-burn- 


72 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ings, and envyings, and petty jealousies ; besides a 
great deal of solemn talk amongst tlie old “ mem- 
bers ” about religious matters ; then the stranger 
who had been weather-bound at the Flemmings’ was 
turned over, and much indignation expressed that 
a baptist should have abode among the godly ; 
after which followed a discussion on the dangers of 
property ; then more than one or two disparaging 
hints were thrown out against Elder Flemming for 
giving the man hospitality ; if he must needs take 
Lim,” said they, ‘‘the 1 arn w^as a good enough 
place for such a clniracter, and not the sacred 
hearthstone where the righteous had sat for more 
than a century ; then some of them thought the 
Elder cherished “ peculiar views,” and wondered at 
the loose reign he held over his children, at whose 
vanities he winked, even allowing them to dance 
to the “ sound of the viol ” in the assemblies of the 
wicked ; concluding with : “ there is something un- 
sound at the core,” — meaning him. And there was 
no want of kindness among them ; they thought 
they were serving God, and vigilant in His service, 
when they sat in judgment on their brethren’s short- 
comings or actual transgressions ; they imagined 
they knew what self-righteousness meant, without 
dreaming that they were clothed in it as with a 
garment ; and they firmly believed that their first 
duty to God and man was to cherish and defend 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


73 


everything in their religion in the sternest antithet- 
ical way against property, their views of w^hich were 
as antithetical to the real thing as darkness is to 
light. This was the rallying point where all agreed; 
the forlorn hope w^hich kept them from wildly scat- 
tering, and straying into open infidelity ; the enemy 
which kept them vigilant, and alert, and concen- 
trated ; at times, when stranded among the bewild- 
ering rocks of the right of ‘‘ private interpretation,” 
each one felt authorized to set up new doctrinal 
lights, until there was danger of their being lost in 
utter darkness. So when these offshoot sects of the 
old Puritan tree disagreed in all things else, they 
shook hands over the ‘‘ downfall of the Pope ” and 
buried the tomahawk. 

Up and down through the wild, glorious scenery 
of this region, with the sun sprinkling millions of 
lesser suns on ice-crowned peak and snow-draped 
mountain, skimmed the fleet sleighs ; and many a 
poor half-famished family received gifts as they 
stopped a moment in front of their brown huts — 
such gifts as a fat turkey, or a joint, or a basket of 
pies, and other substantial things which fed the 
hungry and sent the little ones to bed happy and 
warm. They generally looked close at the main 
chance, but on the whole were as humane and kind- 
ly of heart as most people, fulfilling all the duties 
of the natural lavvs with scrupulous fidelity, but as 


74 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ignorant of the truth as revealed to His Church by 
Jesus Christ, as are the dwellers in Hindostanee or 
Central Africa. 

But nothing of this disturbed the sedate carnival- 
time of our puritan friends, along the lake shore 
and up the mountain slopes stretching back from 
its frozen waters. Eva, Hope, Nicholas, Eeuben 
and John Wilde, in the double sleigh, drawn by 
four horses decorated with fringes and bells; snugly 
tucked in with Canadian blankets and covered with 
buffalo robes, whirled up with gay clangor to Dea- 
con Snethen’s, lifted Huldah, who was expecting 
them, into the midst of them, smothering her laugh- 
ter under the soft furry mantle that Nicholas threw 
around her ; then sped, swiftly as any swallow 
could fly, along the up-country road, singing chat- 
ting and laughing by turns, enjoying the ecstatic 
aerial motion, and the prospect of a good supper 
at John Wilde’s mother’s and a quiet home-dance 
after it, with such wholesome and delightful antici- 
pations of pleasure as it is the privilege and happi- 
ness of the young and innocent to enjoy. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


75 


CHAPTEE VI. 

THE INNER LIFE OF WOLFERT Fl-EMMING. 

Never shone the sun on a scene more grand or 
beautiful ! Covered to a depth of four or five feet 
with snow, which in some places where it had 
drifted lapped in great folds and ridges, in graceful 
curves and furrows of unsullied white, the moun- 
tains from Ossipee to Belknap, from ‘‘ Whiteface ” 
to Eed Hill and rising beyond these, the chain 
stretching northward, whose cheeks could be seen 
like jeweled crests hashing in the sunlight, looked 
as if fashioned by giants out of alabaster, so trans- 
parent and aerial did they appear through the 
crisp dazzhng atmosphere, so gracefully did the long 
blue shadows sweep down their sides like the folds 
of royal robes bordered with ermine, so softly waved 
the green plumes of the pines clustered with ice- 
gems ; while the beautiful Lake with its romantic 
indentations, and isles set like jewels on its bosom, 
lay gleaming in the sunshine, a level sea of crystal, 
its murmuring waters holding gay revel beneath 
their roofing of ice. 

This region was not thickly settled; the noisy 
clangor of modern progress had not yet disturbed 
its grand solitudes ; the fiery dragon of iron and 
steam, with his jar, and power, and discordant roar, 


76 


THE ELEMMINaS. 


had not yet sent the echoes thrilling back with af- 
frighted shrieks to their romantic caves, or made 
the e'artli tremble and quiver as with the shock of 
the last trumpet ; no steamboat had then fretted 
the fair waters of Winnipiseogee ; no, forty years 
ago if any of the old sachems had come from the 
‘‘ setting sun ” to revisit the scenes where they had 
roamed at will, the “ monarchs of all they sur- 
veyed,” they would have seen but few changes. 
Farm houses with cultivated fields about them, a 
small hamlet or two near the borders of the lake, 
brown cottages nestling between the slopes, a wind- 
mill here and there, and the meeting-house as near 
the centre of the scattered neighborhood as it could 
be located, were the only changes the swarthy 
ghosts would have seen had they come. So insular 
was the neighborhood, that a man of it who could 
say he had been to Boston, distant a little over 
a hundred miles, was considered a great traveller, 
whose conversation was listened to with respect. 
The meeting-house was open every Sabbath day — 
by a sort of compromise these sects call it the Sab- 
bath day, but in reality keep holy the day estab- 
lished by the Catholic Church to celebrate resur- 
rection of Clirist, little dreaming that they are in- 
debted to her authority and tradition for it — and 
crowded with a grave and decorous assemblage of 
old, middle-aged and young, who met to hear the 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


77 


words of their well-meaning teacher, an old man 
who had been nursed in the early cradle of puri- 
tanism and who laid' down the spiritual law. as he 
understood it, disintegrating the Scriptures blindly 
and at will with much unction, and had devoted the 
labors of his hfe to building upon a sandy founda- 
tion, happy in the conceit that it was rock of a safe 
but soft kind. With the Bible in one hand and the 
“ Articles of the Westminster Assembly ” in the 
other. Father Bay — as he was called — preached 
total depravity, and regeneration without baptism, 
and justification by faith without works, until the 
converted ones felt all the stern dignity of the elect, 
and the unconverted beheved as they were taught 
• — some of them with an amazed sort of wonder that 
a merciful God should allow His creatures, for 
whose salvation His own Son had died, to be born 
and live under such a wrathful ban — that they were 
children of perdition and bond slaves of the devil ; 
and thus believing, much of their youth was spent 
in the shadow of severe restraints ; the innocent 
pleasures of life were condemned by the harsh 
creed of their fathers as sins not to ‘be forgiven, 
and as they could not all of them get up the state 
of mind which they called conversion, many of 
them became indifferent — so indifferent that reli- 
gion became an unattainable myth to their aspha- 
tions ; and when those who thought much of such 


78 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


matters got to measuring tlie morality and purity 
of their own lives with the Christian character of 
the “ brethren,” they found so little difference that 
the balance sometimes seemed in their own favor,'' 
which of course scandalized them and made them 
suspect that religion was not, after all, the holy and 
divine power they had thought it to be. But on 
the “ Sabbath ” there they all assembled, the elect 
and the' unregenerate together, looking as if they 
had all taken a dose of the waters of Marah and 
didn’t care to have them sweetened; and old 
Father Bay would wind up the saints with his 
“ pure doctrine ” until they felt like marching into 
the lightnings of Mount Sinai, while the sinners — 
those who cared — looked as if they were going to 
be hanged. Then it was all over until the next 
meeting — and they went their ways — the members 
carrying nothing with them to sanctify and sweeten 
the routine and toils of daily life ; their souls bris- 
tled with the thorns of the Law, upon which they 
hung their interpretations of the Holy Scriptures in 
good faith ; there was nothing done for the sake of 
Him who preached the Sermon on the Mount, be- 
cause they believed He had done all, and anything 
that they might do would be idle works of supere- 
rogation ; so they went on reading the Bible, and 
thinking of ‘‘Free Grace” and “Predestination,” 
and symbolizing the teachings of Christ, and driv- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


79 


ing sharp bargains with each other between 
whiles, never losing sight of their worldly affairs, 
until another Sabbath rolled round. 

Mrs. Flemming was one of the stern disciples of 
Father Eay ; while her husband, although a just 
man and living a godly life before the world and 
his brethren, who held him in high esteem, some- 
times differed from him — and in their private con- 
versations startled the old minister by broaching 
opinions which he denounced as dangerous and 
devilish errors. The sons and daughters of the 
house were on the seat of the sinner;” they had 
not professed that change known among their peo- 
ple as “ conversion,” and were consequently the 
objects of many stern reproofs and warnings from 
the old minister. 

On this bright and lovely day, when amidst the 
pearly lights resting on the glistening peaks and 
sharp edges of the snow-covered ridges, one might 
almost have imagined himself up among the opal- 
like cirri of a summer sky, the old brown mare of 
the minister was seen bearing down towards the 
Flemming homestead. Sitting erect and clothed 
in a severe suit of black, his black hat pulled down 
over his ears, his coat collar pulled up to them, he 
and his old mare would have looked like a sprawF 
ing blot on the fair face of nature but that by some 
chance he had tied a red comforter around his 


80 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


neck, the ends of which streamed over his shoul- 
ders, giving to the cold white foreground of the 
landscape just the little dash of scarlet it needed. 
Eiding with him was a young man wrapped in 
furs, whose handsome, intelligent face looked 
brightly out from under his cap of Eussian sable, 
from which escaped a curling fringe of yellow hair. 
This was Father Eay’s grandson and ward, who 
having graduated at Yale was studying law in Bos- 
ton. He had come up to the White Mountain 
' country to spend a few days with liis grandfather 
— uncomfortable days, full of sermon and lecture, 
admonition and prayer, which the young scape- 
grace, who had adopted while absent the exceed- 
ingly comfortable doctrines of ‘‘universal salva- 
tion,” listened to with suppressed yawns — and was 
now riding over with him to visit his old friends, 
the Flemmings, and assure himself that Eva Flem- 
ming was unchanged ; not that they were lovers, 
but that he hoped some day to win her if the world 
went well with him. The young folks were all at 
home, and he received a warm greeting; their delight 
on seeing their old playmate taking much of the edge 
off the reproving salutations of the minister, whom 
Mrs. Flemming took immediate charge of, helping 
him off with his wraps and giving him a comforta- 
ble seat near the fire, after which she went to the 
“ work-room ” to tell her husband he was there ; 


THE FLEMMINGS. 81 

then hurried on to send their man-of-all-work in to 
kindle a great fire in the best room,” for she 
knew that the two always liked to have a private 
talk together ; after which she plunged into her 
store-room to consider the possibilities of a feast ; 
while she kept thinking and could not get it out of 
her head what a nice match George Merill would 
be for Eva.” The old minister was glad to go 
away with Elder Elemming to the quiet well- 
warmed parlor in the new part of the house ; for 
the young people, although they felt the restraint 
of his presence, and with long faces tried their best 
to be serious, George Merill, full of delight at see- 
ing them all again in the beautiful quaint old room, 
broke out in such gushes of talk and fun that for 
the life of them they could not keep it up, and 
laughed and talked with the most unprecedented 
irreverence; while father Kay sat bolt upright, 
twirling his thumbs over each other and gazing 
with a displeased countenance into the fire as if he 
were settling their final doom, So he was as much 
relieved to go out from among them as they were 
at his going. When they were comfortably seated, 
each in a well-cashioned arm-chair. Father Eay 
said : 

‘‘ George Merill came down with me. He’s go- 
ing away in a day or two, and wanted to see the 
young people.” 


82 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


George is a very fine fellow. I am very glad 
lie came ! ” said the Elder heartily. 

“ George is a thorn in my flesh, a reproach to 
me and my ministry, he has got his head full of 
strange notions, and disputes with me on the af- 
fairs of his salvation. My head is bowed down 
Avith shame that he is gone so far astray, for he is 
the child of many prayers,” said Father Eay, 
sternly. 

“ What are his notions ? ” asked the Elder. 

“ Universal salvation. He argues that our 
Saviour died for all, and that all men will be 
saved ; and to fill the climax of his folly he has the 
audacity to say he has Scripture authority for it. 
He has read the Bible since he could read at all ; 
in season, and out of season, I have made him 
read it ; he is famihar with it, and now wrests it to 
his own perdition ! ” cried the old man with 
indignation. 

“I have come to think,” said Flemming in his 
slow level tones, “ that there are many things in 
the sacred writings to confuse the mind of the in- 
experienced, and it has become a subject of grave 
import to me why so few of our children walk in 
the way of our fathers. There seems to be some- 
thing wanting to hold them from running here and 
there after strange doctrines. George is only one 
of many, and it was so even in my young days.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


83 


Father Eaj placed his hands upon his knees, 
straightened himself up, and looked with surprised 
and severe aspect at the Elder, who met it calmly, 
and continued : “ You know that all who differ 
from us show Scripture to authorize their opinions, 
even when their doctrines are as much opposed to 
each other, and as far asunder as the east is from 
the west.” 

“ I deny their right to do so,” replied the minis- 
ter in a sternly authoritative tone. “ It is because 
of the ungodly and carnal imaginations of such as 
wrest the Scriptures to their own destruction, that 
these differences arise ; that the young and unre- 
generate follow after the idols of this world, and 
trample in the dust all orthodox meaning and dis- 
cipline. But when a man like yourself expresses 
a doubt, a man raised on the very ‘ milk of the 
word,’ whose head is already whitening in the ser- 
vice of the Lord — then, Wolfert Flemming, I am* 
filled with fearful misgivings as to his state.” 

“ That is exactly the way I feel abolit myseK, 
until sometimes the light becomes so obscure that 
I almost despair ; in fact, I have been wishing for 
some time past to lay before you, as they are laid 
bare before God, some of the perplexities which 
have arisen in my mind from reading the Scrip- 
tures,” said Flemming.’ . 

“ I am ready to listen. I can tell you nothing on 


84 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


doctrinal points tliat you do not already know as 
v/ell as I ; but we will take counsel together, 
Wolfert, and if the spiritual experience of a man 
much older than yourself will be any help to you, 
it is at your service.” 

Flemming got up and walked to and fro the 
room two or three times, his head bowed in deep 
thought, then resumed his seat and began : “ I 

sometimes think that these thoughts are tempta- 
tions, and put them away from me, until I remem- 
ber that they are the sayings and the express 
commands of Him whom I believe to be the very 
Son of God, equal in all things unto Him: in 
whom and through whom alone we trust for salva- 
tion : then I go over the same ground again, and 
apply text after text to the articles of behef in 
which I was raised, and which, on my conversion, 
I publicly professed and accepted, and lo you! 
Some of them seem to .crumble away at the test. 
I should like to forget all — to bury these doubts 
in oblivion, and be as I was at first ; but how can 
I, seeing that I believe Jesus Christ to be the 
Eternal Truth, disbelieve His word? ” , 

‘‘ No Christian doubts His w^ord,” said the min- 
ister. “ If you receive it in a limited sense, or go 
beyond its meaning, there is your coiidemnation. 
But I do not easily see the drift of your words.” 

“ Well,” continued the Elder In his grave quiet 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


85 


way, “ I can explain what I mean — God help me — 
on at least one point. We deny that regeneration 
takes place in baptism.” 

“ Certainly.” 

But when Nicodemus asked Christ How can a 
man be born again?’ He — the Eternal Truth — 
replied : ‘ Except a man be born of water and of 
the spirit, he cannot enter the Kingdom of 
Heaven ; ’ and yet we refuse baptism to an adult, 
until he is first born of the spirit, or converted. It 
is true that we baptize infants, but how ? We give 
it to them as a symbol, a pledge or testimony that 
tve will do our best as sponsors to raise them 
Christians ; for the child, we deny that it has a 
saving, a cleansing significance or power, even 
when we know that He said horn of water'' 

“ Christ spoke figuratively,” said Father Bay, in 
positive tones ; for how can a man be born of 
water ? He meant simply a dedication of them- 
selves by baptism to His service, as an outward 
sign that they believed and hoped in Him : but 
the new birth of the spirit is the essential thing ! 
How can water wash the total depravity of man’s 
nature away? Absurd! ” 

‘‘ I do not know liowf said Flemming, with a 
troubled expression in his eyes. “ I can only set 
what we are taught against what He said, and see 
the discrepancy I Not only what His own words 


86 


THE ELE^IMINGS. 


declare, but wbat His apostles and disciples 
preached and insisted on. 8t. Paul calls baptism 
tlie ‘ laver of regeneration, and renovation of the 
Holy Ghost.’ He baptized ^ whole families,’ we 
are told, among whom were doubtless little child- 
ren and infants ; children must therefore be capa- 
ble of this regeneration by water, since Christ said 
^ Suffer httle children to come unto Me, for of such 
is the kingdom of Heaven ;’ but since He de- 
clares it, shall evSn these enter without being ‘born 
of water;’ and what becomes of total depravity, 
which ive believe -can only be eradicated by justifi- 
cation by faith ? Throughout the New Testament, 
baptism is insisted on as an essential and as 
a figurative thing. St. Paul says : ‘ Arise and be 
baptized every one of you, in the name of Jesus 
Christ, for the remission of your sins, you shall re- 
ceive the gifts of the Holy Ghost,^ ‘Arise,’ said 
Ananias to Paul, ‘ and wash away thy sin.’ Paul 
tells us again that ‘ Christ loved the Church, and 
gave himself for it, that He might sanctify it 
cleansing it by the laver of water in the word of 
Life.’ This, and much else, disturbs me ; but while 
we are thanking God that we are not as other men, 
we stand blind and naked before Him.” 

“Wolfert, Wolfert Flemming! that old Bible of 
yours, in which you take such pride, was printed 
too near the ancient popish days not to have some 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


87 


corruptions in tlie text. I have always misdoubted 
it, and now see with good reason,” said the minister 
earnestly. Put it away — into the fire, or anywhere 
— so that you read it no more; and get one trans- 
lated in more enhghtened days.” 

‘‘No! ” said the Elder, while a flush deepened on 
his face; “I stick to my old Bible. It is an early 
Lutheran edition ; and what is so near its source it 
is reasonable to think ought to be the purest. As 
the title-page tells me : ‘ it was revised and ap- 
proved by the great ‘Eeformer’ himself.” 

“ Beware then, Wolfert Flemming, how you turn 
the word of God to your own destruction. The ex- 
ercises of your mind are not uncommon. Doubts 
and temptations are the ordeal by which the soul 
— if faithful and steadfast- — reaches sanctification. 
You Imow what orthodox doctrine in its purity 
means, and understand experimentally what justifi- 
cation by faith is. -I cannot admonish you on 
these points, but I do adjure you in the most sol- 
emn manner to have recourse to prayer; that is 
the only weapon by which you can victoriously 
combat these doubts. Pray without ceasing, and 
may He in whom we both hope deliver you from 
your perplexities,” said Father Bay with an almost 
imperceptible quaver in his harsh voice. 


88 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


CHAPTER YU. 

MKS. FLEMMING IS THANKFUL FOR THE PROSPERITY 
AND HAPPINESS OF HER FAMILY. 

“ Yes, I will pray on, hoping for light,” said 
Elemming in his grave, level tones. So far mv 
prayers are unanswered ; I have knocked but the 
door remains closed ; and the end of it all is that 
my spiritual hfe is full of discord. In the pages of 
the ‘ word,’ where I found only peace, I discover 
contradictions which so confound me that I some- 
times wonder if I have risked my soul on a lie.” 

Wolfert Flemming’s mental condition is one not 
at all uncommon to thinking religious minds out- 
side the One True Fold, though there be only a few 
who are honest enough to admit the fact in regard 
to their own individual experience ; they go stum- 
bling on over their doubts and misgivings, and 
search the Scriptures diligently only to find out- 
side of the texts on which their own peculiar doc- 
trines are founded, things hard to be understood, 
and an apparent authority for contradictory belief, 
with a strange want of harmony which perplexes 
and dismays them. How should they — who have 
always been taught that it is a false, idolatrous 
creed — know that it is only in the Holy Catholic 
Church, which acknowledges the eternal and indis- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


89 


soluble unity of one Lord, one Faitb, one Baptism, 
that the integrity of the Scriptures is preserved in- 
tact, that their unbroken harmony like golden 
links stretch from the promise, given by almighty 
God to our first parents, of a Eedeemer, down to 
the birth of Jesus Christ in the stable at Bethle- 
hem ; from the manger to the cross, from the cross 
unto the end of time, from time into a boundless 
and infinitely glorious eternity ? To the true be- 
liever there is no discord in the Holy Scriptures, for 
his is no ephemeral belief in an amateur religion 
founded for the glorification and selfish ends of man, 
but a science of eternal principles coming from God 
Himself, sealed by the precious blood of His Son, 
and vivified by the Holy Ghost who abideth with 
it ; a faith whose commission of authority is divine, 
whose interpretations are infallible, founded upon 
a rock against which the gates of hell can never 
prevail ; which — immutable, unchangeable, and un- 
shaken after the tempests and buffeting of nearly 
nineteen centuries — stands as firm as the everlast- 
ing hills, more glorious and beautiful than the sun, 
her battlements glittering with the souls she has 
won, her watch-towers enlightening the ends of the 
earth ; awaiting the consummation of time to as- 
cend in triumph with her spoils and conquests into 
the eternal heavens. 

Our good Puritan knew nothing of this True 


90 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Faith ; he had heard and read of a monstrous and 
devilish system called popery, worse than the creed 
of Buddha, more infamous than the priestcraft of 
Egypt ; a thing so full of the abomination of deso- 
lation, so corrupt and antichristian in its tenden- 
cies that it sickend his upright soul and made him 
wonder at the great patience of almighty God in 
bearing with it ; but beyond this mistaken view he 
knew nothing ; he was as ignorant as any pagan in 
the jungles of India of the one true Catholic Church 
— its Faith, Creed, Dogmas, Precepts and usages. 
He was only one of many God-fearing, truth-seek- 
ing men who, like Saul of Tarsus, think they are 
best serving God when in their blindness they rage 
against His Church. He had the Bible for his 
guide, but we see how sorely he was confused in a 
labyrinth of which he held not the clue. 

“ These are temptations, Wolfert,” said the old 
minister, laying his hand upon the bowed head of 
the strong man ; “ but keep them from the know- 
ledge of your family, lest you scandalize the weak 
and unregenerate of your own household ; pray, 
pray without ceasing.” 

Jacob, overwearied with fatigue in his journey to 
Mesopotamia, took a stone and laying it under his 
head slept there and had a glorious vision of an- 
gels, and when he awaked out of his sleep he said : 
“ Indeed the Lord is in this place and I knew it 


THE ELEMMINGS. 91 

not.”* So was it with this man who with earnest 
purpose rested on the Scriptures, which, now more 
comfortless than a stone, would by-and-by become 
the very gate of heaven to him, 

Mrs. Flemming came in to invite them out to 
dinner, and her beaming smile was somewhat 
checked when she noted the stern and troubled 
expression on the countenances of her husband and 
the minister ; but she at once imagined in her 
quick conclusive way that they had been deep in 
grave religious discussions, which accounted for it 
very satisfactorily to her mind, for it was utterly 
impossible for her ever to disassociate religion with 
a stern gravity ; and except that she straightened 
herself up a little to meet the emergency, she gave 
herself no trouble about it, and thought they were 
both saints. . The young people were having a 
cheerful time around the bright hearth of the old 
room, judging from the hum and laughter that 
came sounding through the open doors ; but it 
smote upon Father Eay’s ears so gratingly that 
when he came in his countenance wore a severe 
and displeased look, which passed over the blithe- 
some and innocent young hearts Hke a cold wave, 
chilling them into sudden silence. 

“ It is all levity,” he thought ; “ they are children 
of the devil, and what right have they to be laugh- 

Genesis xxviii. 


92 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ing on tlie brink of woe.” Then lie looked around 
at the handsome comely young faces, all drawn 
down into a serious silence which was a revolt 
against nature and innocence, while in their hearts 
they were thinking “how unlovely religion is;” 
then, as if satisfied with this outward seeming, he 
folded his hands, and closing his eyes began to 
“ offer thanks.” It was a long grace, more full of 
reproof than of thankfulness for blessings received, 
which gave the turkey and other viands time to 
cool, while the mouths of the wholesome hungry 
young folks watered ; and George Merill wondered 
if a harpy or something would not fly down and 
seize the good things before his grandfather got 
through. But no ; he finished, and in solemn 
silence on their part the dinner was eaten. They 
ate, and that was all they could do ; for the Elder, 
the minister and Mrs. Flemming got into a talk 
about religious affairs in which “justification by 
faith ” and “free agency ” were gravely discussed, 
which quite extinguished their spirits. Nicholas 
whispered : “ I wish that pedler felloAV was here. 
Wouldn’t it be fun ?” at which a contraband giggle 
was beared for an instant but as instantly hushed. 
The “ pedler fellow ” had been the subject of their ^ 
conversation before dinner, and their hearty laugh- 
ter had been over the recollection of his pleasant- 
ries, blunders and songs* ; but the audacity of Nich- 




THE FLEMMINGS. 


93 


olas snggested a situation too ludicrous for their 
gravity even under the awful restraints of Father 
Ray’s presence. But everything comes to an end, 
and so did the dinner ; after which the Elder and 
his wife, with their reverend guest, sat round the 
broad cheerful hearth of the quaint old room, while 
the young people went away into the new part of 
the house and took possession of “ the best on a,” 
and enjoyed themselves. 

George Merill thought Eva more lovely than he 
had imagined ; every movement was full of unre- 
strained grace ; her intelligent mind gave anima- 
tion and interest to all she said, and there was over 
it all an expression of an innate purity which made 
her strangely beautifnl, and he resolved that he 
'would offer himself to her before he went back to 
Boston. Father Ray, when he took leave, ‘‘ ad- 
monished each one to give up the' vanities of the 
world, and declared that it was their own perver- 
sity and hard heartedness that kept them from 
being converted.” Said he : ‘‘ Ton harden your 
hearts and stiffen your necks, and by-and-by you 
will be abandoned by the still small voice, unless 
you repent.” Mrs. Flemming sighed a genuine 
sigh from the depths of her motherly heart over 
her children ; the Elder looked on the sweet come- 
ly faces of his daughters and the brave handsome 
ones of his boys, and the thought that there was 


94 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


indeed but one tiling needful ” to mate tliem per- 
fect — but wished that the stern old preacher would 
try and make rehgion a more winning and lovely 
thing to them ; for his heart yearned tenderly over 
them that they might become true and faithful ser- 
vants of God. 

That evening the Elder and his wife sat talking 
over the fire — the yoxmg people having gone off in 
a sleigh to the old meeting-house, a mile distant, 
to attend the singing class. They were quite alone. 
Said Mrs. Flemming : 

I think, father, we ought to feel very thankful. 
God has prospered us abundantly, and our home 
here is happier than most. Indeed, I often wonder 
if many have been as happily matched and mated 
as we two.” 

I’m afraid there are not many, httle wife ; more 
is the pity. Yes, as you say, we have reason to be 
thankful, and I hope that we are so,” said the Elder 
smoothing her hair. 

“ And I will tell you what, father,” she went 
on. ‘‘T think our children will be happy too ; they 
are handsome and thrifty, although I say it who 
oughtn’t ; and they are .going to marry so suitably, 
and will have none of that rough close struggle that 
most young couples have. Deacon Sneathen’s a 
well-to-do man, and Huldah is a good, managing, 
natty girl, and wiU make Nick a good wife ; then, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


95 


John Wilde — I don’t know a better young man — 
you know that he is rich ; leastways he’s got the 
biggest and best stocked farm in these parts, and 
will be a good husband to Hope, depend upon that. 
And I am sure that George Merill will ask Eva ; 
I saw it in his eyes to-day if I ever saw anything.” 

“ What a clever little mother it is,” said the 
Elder, smiling ; “ and what a proud one you’ll be 
to sit down among your children and grandchil- 
dren some of these Thanksgiving-days. But you 
are mistaken, it is likely, about George Merill ; he 
will want a city wif^, and don’t you see that he’s a 
bit of a dandy ?” 

“ He may be that ; but if he’s not head over ears 
in love with Eva, I never was so deceived in all my 
life,”''said Mrs. Flemming, poking up the fire with 
the tongs. 

‘^It would be a good match, a very suitable 
match,” replied her husband complacently. Only 
I should not like Eva to go so far off.” 

“ Neither should I ; but such things are to be ex- 
pected, and it would be selfish to stand in the way 
of her happiness and interest if she likes him,” an- 
'swered Mrs. Flemming. 

“ That is very true. Why, mother, the old home 
will be very empty and lonely for us when they all 
go. I think we shall have to fetch Huldah and 
Nicholas to live with us.” 


96 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


It is time enougli to think of that, father. It 
looiild be very lonesome; but, to my thinking, 
young people are best off to themselves, in their 
own house. Motliers-in-law and daughters-in-law 
oftener than not get to hate each other, and I 
shouldn’t like Nick’s wife to hate me. I’m afraid 
that your plan won’t answer ; I’ve been mistress 
here too long.” 

And shall be to the end, my good faithful little 
wife and helpmate. As long as you live this house 
is your kingdom,” he said fondly, while a warm 
glow of happiness passed over her face, softening 
away every hard line until the beauty of her youth 
seemed given back to her for a few moments ; — 
then : 

“ It will be pleasant, I guess, to have them all 
coming to see us, father and you know we shall 
have Reuben all the time.” 

‘‘ Our poor Reuben ! I fear that his life will be 
spent uselessly. I can’t imagine what he will do,” 
sighed the Elder, while his heavy eyebrows low- 
ered. 

“ Ah well ! there is no use fretting our hearts to 
fiddle-strings over Reuben. I dare say something 
will turn up to suit him,” replied she, also signing. 

But I feel pretty well tuckered out, and shall go 
to bed.” 

That night, after Hope and Eva got home, they 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


97 


Slit together on the hearth rug, reluctant to leave 
the warmth and glow of the fire, so grateful to their 
half-benumbed feet after their cold ride — talking 
over the evening after the manner of young girls : 

“I think,” said Hope, ‘Hhat George Merill is 
very handsome.” 

“ Yes, George is good-looking. I don’t think 
the city has changed him much,” replied Eva in a 
tone of unconcern. 

‘‘ You seem very indifferent,” said Hope teas- 
ingly. 

“ No, I am not indifferent. I hke George — ” 

“ Aha ! so I thought !” 

“As a friend. We were playmates at school 
you know, Hope, and I liked him then just as I 
did Nick and Eeuben ; and I like him so now,” an- 
swered Eva seriously.” 

“ Well I guess that’s something ; but good night, 
I have to be up betimes in the morning. I should 
like to sit here all night if it were not for that,’** 
said Hope, getting up to begin her preparations 
for rest — “ good night ; tell me all about the pic- 
tures you find in the coals. Poor Euby’s pictures !” 
And Hope blessed her sister’s fair upturned face ; 
then with a sudden impulse she placed her hands 
on each side of her head, and pressed her cheek 
lightly on her golden hair. Soon Hope’s low, soft 
breathing told she was asleep ; but Eva still sat mo- 


98 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tionless on the rug, lost in thought. Presently she 
reached out her hand and took her Bible from a 
small work-table standing near, opened it and 
drew out the picture of the crucifixion,” the keep- 
sake of Patrick Me Cue, — and gazed, her eyes full 
of deep thought, her heart stirring to strange pul- 
sations, upon it. The picture and she who stood 
beside the Cross ever haunted her. Like aerial 
echoes of Killamey, which continue to float and 
repeat in clear sweet musical cadences the notes of 
the instrument which evoked them, long after it 
has ceased, so through the pure and quiet realms 
of this young girl’s mind floated ever and ever, no 
matter where she was or what she was doing, the 
thought of the Yirgin Mother; and all of her 
thoughts converged to the question : Who was she ? 
She had never thought of her before, beyond the 
natural fact of her being the Mother of Jesus. She 
had read of august mothers : the mother of Moses, 
the mother of the Gracchi, the mother of Washing- 
ton, and many other noble and true mothers whose 
vntues she admired and revered. She had also 
read of mothers whose sorrow could not be thought 
of without tears : she had wept over the grief of 
Hecuba ; her soul had glowed with a sort of burn- 
ing ire and pity at the sevenfold martyrdom of the 
mother of the Machabees ; she had lamented with 
the mothers of Bethlehem over their slaughtered 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


99 


innocents ; but the Mother of Jesus ! it actually 
seemed something new to her, now she came to 
think of it that this holy Mother was not a myth, 
but an actual mother, who had lived and suffered. 
She had never thought of her before, and had felt 
no more veneration for her than for other women ; 
the mother of Washington had stood far above 
this lowly Virgin Mother, who was altogether sub- 
ordinate and lost sight of in the life of her Divine 
Son ; but now she began to have deep thoughts, 
which would not let her alone, and being possessed 
of a clear analytical brain and keen womanly per- 
ceptions, it is not strange that she should want to 
study out the problem that haunted her. And 
even after she laid her head upon her pillow, in- 
stead of dropping off to sleep she got to wonder- 
ing how this Mother could only stand weeping and 
suffering by the Cross upon which her sinless Son 
was expiring in cruel torments, when it seemed only 
human that she should have died in a sublime en- 
deavor to defend and shield Him ; then she 
thought over all the mothers she knew, and there 
was not one of them, she was morally sure, who if 
they could not have rescued their child from his in- 
human enemies, but would at least have died in the 
effort. But this Mother, imlike any other, accepted 
the wrongs and ignominies of her Son with passive 
endurance without liftiug hand or voice to protest 


100 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


against the injustice of His persecutors and the 
wanton cruelty of His torments. ‘‘ There must be,” 
she thought, “ a reason for this, a mystery which 
she could not understand,” but she determined to 
begin, the very next morning, at the first chapter 
of Genesis, and search carefully through every line 
and verse of Holy Writ, down to the last word in 
Eevelations, to see if she could make it out. Then 
it seemed strange to her that she had never felt 
the least reverence for her who was the Mother of 
Jesus, because she was His Mo'ther. The mother 
of Washington was reverenced next to himself in 
the American . mind ; but here was the Mother of 
the Saviour of the world, scarcely known, never 
venerated, never spoken of, and held in the lowest 
esteem of all the holy women named in the Bible. 
Eva could not make it out, but fell asleep murmur- 
ing “ unlike other mothers.” 

Unlike other mother-s ! Yes ! promised from the 
beginning, this Virgin Mother was unlike all others ; 
this second Eve, through whom the fault of the 
first Eve was to be repaired; this gate through 
which the King of glory was to enter ; this Virgin 
expected, and sung, by the patriarchs and prophets, 
to whom an archangel was sent with wondrous 
message from the Most High ; this Mother to 
whom Simeon prophesied that a sword of grief 
should pierce her soul.” Yes, truly was she unlike 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


101 


any mother the world ever saw ; elect from all 
eternity ; sinless in her conception and birth ; a 
virgin Mother of her Divine Son ; a martyr above 
all martyrs, while He was the victim for all sin ; 
and for what ? That the world might be redeemed. 
Her Son had to be about His Father’s business 
the time had come when all was to be acomplished ; 
therefore did she stand dumb and passive in her 
woe, bearing in her soul the cruel wounds and bit- 
ter torments of His body; therefore had she 
strength to see Him die ; every nerve and fibre of 
her being pulsing with the dread sword-thrust of 
grief throughout His dolorous Passion ; sharing 
every pang, immolating her nature, and offering 
with Him the sacrifice of soul and body, that the 
great work of Redemption might be accomplished. 

Eva’s thoughts of the Blessed Virgin Mother 
were like the fibres of a root in a dark place, stretch- 
ing themselves towards a slender thread of light 
coming through a narrow crevice, unknowing of 
the boimdless wealth of sunshine and dew outside 
its prison bounds ; or hke a mountain pool, into 
whose depths a rare jewel is dropped and hidden by 
the ripple made by its fall, until presently its ruf- 
fled pulsations subside, and the sun gleaming 
down into the clear transparent depths, flashes into 
the heart of the gem like a tongue of fire. 


102 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


CHAPTEE Vni. 

GROPINGS AND THE SHADOW. 

It was true. There was nothing, humanly 
speaking, for the Flemmings to wish for. They 
were prosperous, contented and happy in each 
other ; and, as Mrs. Flemming said : ‘‘ What better 
could they hope for their children, than the safe, 
sensible marriages they expected to make ?” It is 
true that the good little mother got into quite a 
gloomy, anxious mood every Sabbath, over the un- 
converted state of her sons and daughters, for which 
she found no balm in Father Bay’s sermons ; but 
she scarcely gave herself time during the busy vreek 
days to feel troubled about it, finding her solace in 
her household and family cares ; and for any spir- 
itual anxieties that might arise, a diversion in 
Eeuben’s idle, shiftless ways, which acted as a 
chronic counter irritant, perplexing her without 
measure ; and now that he had taken to writing 
verses, and drawing pictures and faces upon the 
barn door and the kitchen wall, with charcoal and 
chrome red, which was left from painting a new 
out-building, she had a perfect fever of the heart, 
which now and then yented itself in wondering 
‘‘what on earth would become of him!” They 
would be able to leave liim enough to keep him 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


103 


above want ; but an idle man ! This was a lusus 
naturce which she could not endure to think of, and 
he a Flemming ! 

George Merill staid on from day to day, from 
week to week, and spent much of his time at the 
old homestead ; then something happened which 
gave them all great happiness. John Wilde expe- 
rienced the saving evidence,” and professed con- 
version, and was afterwards baptised by old Father 
Kay, not only with water, but with the old min- 
ister’s tears that flowed over the furrows of his 
harsh face without an effort to check them, on the 
head of the stalwart, handsome young fellow, whom 
he had held in his arms and blessed, when he was 
only a few hours old, beside the bed of his dymg 
father. His hear!; was softening when he thought 
of this ; and he felt in administering this Christian 
rite that he was redeeming a pledge made long ago 
to a dying man, and he rejoiced that he was spared 
for the work, no doubt ever crossing his mind as to 
the method, or his right in performing it. John 
Wilde was always a good, moral young man ; but 
all of his friends, those who were members” and 
those who were not, rejoiced over his conversion, 
because they thought it a safe thing for a young 
man just starting in life to be religious. Nicholas 
Flemming grumbled over it a little, and told Hope 
that he “ expected John would get as ugly and sour 


104 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


as Father Bay liimself, and lie supposed that he 
would think himself too good to shake his foot in a 
reel again.” Mr. John Wilde would never dance 
again, but Hope was thankful to see that he was 
only a shade more serious than usual, and that he 
did not grow disagreeable or sour. He only ex- 
horted her now and then in such a way that she 
got afraid that she was not good enough for him ; 
but on the whole he was the same, and they were 
all very happy together, except Wolfert Flemming, 
whose doubts and perplexities increased instead of 
of diminishing ; and the more he pored over his 
old theological books — some full of Lutheranism, 
some full of Moravian doctrine, to seek a standing- 
place for his feet — the deeper he got into the mire, 
for none of them agreed ; each one gave different 
interpretations to the texts that disquieted him^ 
and in his thirst he could find no drop of water in 
the broken cisterns they had hewn out, until at last 
it became clearer to the man’s mmd, every day, 
that in the administration and government of God’s 
kingdom upon earth, there must be a unity, a one- 
ness and a divine authority worthy of Him, its head 
and founder. But here he was obliged to stop 
short. He had not found the clue yet, and he went 
stumbling on in the shadow of darkness, blindly 
groping for the keystone of the arch, which seemed 
far beyond his reach. These were not the days of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


105 


railroads, telegraph wires, steamships, literary pri- 
yateering, and cheap dissemination of philosophy. 
Kant and Spinoza had not then enlightened the 
American mind with their transcendental and pan- 
theistic effusions. Eenan had not written, and one 
heard nothing of Symbolic Christs,” of “ Spiritual 
Christs,” of ‘‘ Representative Christs,” and but little 
of no Christ at all, or it is just possible that our 
good Puritan might have been drawn into an insidu- 
ous, cheating and destructive maelstrom of infidel 
ideas, and tried to measure an infinite God by the 
poor guage of human reason. Happily safe from 
such temptations, his whole mind was bent on try- 
ing to reconcile the glaring discrepancy between 
the literal words and commands and teachings of 
Christ, and the doctrines and teachings of the sects 
which he believed to be orthodox; but he could 
not make them harmonize either symbolically, prac- 
tically or theoretically ; so finding that this per- 
petual study of what became daily a deeper mys- 
tery to him, was beginning to make him morose and 
gloomy, he got into his cutter one morning, and 
went a day’s journey up the country, among the 
pines, where his men were felling timber. Here, 
with axe in hand, he hewed away at the great trees 
from morning until night, with such force in his 
sinewy arms, that his six-foot lumbermen felt 
ashamed of their more puny, blows, and braced 


106 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


themselves up with a will, for these half wild men 
of the mountains did not like to be outdone by one 
who followed the plough and pottered about the 
lowland valleys ; and there was more timber felled 
in those few days than was ever brought down be- 
fore in so short a time. Wolfert Flemming’s blood 
circulated more healthily, and he brought a good 
appetite with him to the repast of bear-steaks, 
potatoes and browm bread that was daily set before 
him, while he found mental occupation in settling- 
two or three quarrels among the rough fellows 
around him ; but none of these expedients quieted 
the vexed needs of his souls, and at the end of a 
week he went back with a vague yearning and long- 
ing after an indefinable something which could 
settle the difficulties and exercises of his mind. 
Father Eay could not do it, neither could his books, 
for they contradicted each other ; and he had prayed 
— he thought in vain — for light. His Bible most 
of all disturbed him, for therein were the words of 
Divine Truth itself, which meant everything or 
nothing. If they meant everything, why was he in 
darkness or doubt ? If they meant nothing, then 
all religion was a lie. If Christ was the Eternal 
Truth, then were His words the truth ; if He was 
not, then His teaching was an imposture. And 
upon this proposition Wolfert Flemming’s mental 
struggles hinged themselves. He believed truly, 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


107 


honestly and with all the strength of his will and 
understanding, that Christ was the Son of God, 
the very Eedeemer who came upon earth not only 
to ransom man, but to found a law of Faith in which 
he could walk without stumbling, and this law of 
Faith should be something divine and perfect, with- 
out contradictions and pitfalls. It became more 
and more clear to him that this divine code did not 
belong to any of the contradictory creeds with 
which he was familiar, because some of them made 
a dead letter of the literal words of Christ, while 
others gave them meanings to suit themselves. 
How coulcL a thorn tree bring forth figs ? He 
opened his Bible one day, and read of the wonder- 
ful power given to Peter and the Apostles : “ Whose 
sins ye remit, they are remitted; whatsoever ye 
loose upon earth shall be loosed in heaven.” “ As 
My Father hath sent Me, I also send you !” and 
to Flemming’s mind, even in the ordinarj^ affaii’s of 
life, it would have seemed more than absurd to 
have bestowed such powers and withheld the means 
of executing them. He inferred, then, that this 
august power had been given, with the authority 
and means to execute it, otherwise the words were 
as meaningless as anything in Joe Smith’s Bible. 
Had this power become a dead letter ? He could 
not be certain. The German Lutherans, he had 
read, claimed some such power, but the other re- 


108 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


formed sects trampled it under foot as one of the 
abuses of popery. Then, too, Christ had said, If 
he will not hear the Church, let him be anathema.” 
He did not say churches ; therefore, if He was to 
be believed, there was a Church in which was 
vested a power not only to remit sins, but to ana- 
athematize those who stubbornly refuse to hear it, 
if he was to credit the Bible. These were some of 
the doubts arising from his study of the Scriptures ; 
but the crowning and most weighty one of all, was 
ill the sixth chapter of St. John, which seemed to 
be the key-note of his difficulties, the mystery which 
if he could understand it, would unfold the rest ; 
the pillar of cloud that led him he knew not whither, 
only drifting farther and farther away from the 
dogmas he had been taught from his youth up ; 
while the Bible, which he had always held as the 
true rule of Faith, was now his stumbling block* 
Was he a hypocrite ? This thought reddened his 
honest face with shame ; but he feared that it was 
something like it to be outwardly holding with the 
shallow belief of his sect and doubting all the time. 
What right had he to set up to be wiser and of 
deeper penetration than his brethren. Was it not 
the presumption of a fool to measure his distrac- 
tions against the sacred wisdom of three centuries ? 
‘‘ There must surely,” he sometimes thought, ‘‘ be 
a maggot in my brain, or something corrupt in my 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


109 


soul. I will shake off these importunate tempta- 
tions.” But he might as well have said that he 
would not breathe,* and expect to live on ; for, do 
all that he would, he could not silence these de- 
mands of his soul ; and he went on plodding the 
routine of his everyday practical life, wrestling with 
the strong Angel in the darkness until sometimes 
he felt almost spent, and wondered if the day would 
ever dawn. In the outward man there was no 
change. A close observer would have thought him 
a snade more reticent, a fact resulting from his 
mental exercises, which he now confided to no one, 
not even to Father Bay, with whom he declined 
any further discussion by telling him one day ‘‘ that 
he should try to let things fall back into the old 
way ; he saw no help for himself otherwise, and he 
should endeavor to silence his doubts, and serve 
God according to the lights he had;” which the 
old minister thought a very judicious, christian-like 
course, and rejoiced over him as over a sheep that 
had been lost in the wilderness and found again. 
But it did not seem to strike him that on the two 
last sacramental Sabbaths” Elder Flemming was 
not in his usual place in ‘‘meeting.” He heard 
that he had gone up among his lumbermen in the 
pine region ; but when the third one rolled round, 
and he was not present at the “ Table of the Lord’s 
Supper,” he called upon him to admonish and re- 


110 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


buke liim, with, a heavy heart ; for the shortcoming 
of a brother so looked up to by other professors as 
a “ burning and shining light” and example on 
which they sought to model their own lives, was no 
ordinary grief to the old man ; but Flemming heard 
all that^ he had to say patiently, and only rephed, 
‘‘ I was compelled to go away which, although 
not entirely satisfactory, was worth, coming from 
him, a hundred excuses of any other man. 

We have seen how happy and prosperous the 
Flemmings were, and heard them congratulating 
each other, with thankful hearts, for the blessings 
which crowned their lives. Of course we leave out 
Wolfert Flemming’s mental disquiet, because his 
family had not the remotest idea that he was thus 
exervcised. Except that, there was not in all the 
broad land a more truly happy and united home 
circle, or one bound together by bands of stronger 
kindred love. But have you ever in a calm sum- 
mer day, when there was not a cloud to be seen to 
obscure the brightness, noticed a shadow suddenly 
sail over your head and flit like a thing of omen 
over the waving heads of the golden grain, shadow- 
ing the poppies among the corn and the asters in 
the meadow, and, on looking up, shading your 
eyes with your hand, seen that it was a hawk sail- 
ing through the amber hued air ? You had no su- 
perstitious dread of the hawk or its fleeting 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Ill 


shadow, but it was not pleasant to have an eerie 
shadow drop out of a cloudless sky on your head, 
and go creeping and gliding over the beautiful 
things of earth around you, like an evil thought, 
aud a little chill quivered over your flesh, as you 
watched the broad- winged bird until it went out of 
sight into the far off depths of the distance. Well, 
I will tell you that one day such a shadow fell upon 
the old homestead, a shadow which they thought 
no more of after it had passed away, but which 
was the avant-courier of others yet darker for that 
happy household. It happened in this wise. 

One afternoon, George Merill rode down to say 
good-by to them all. Hope and Nicholas were 
away at Deacon Sneathen’s, but expected back 
before night. The Elder was busy somewhere 
among his outbuilding, and Eeuben was with him, 
full of the amiable endeavor to be useful, but, as 
usual, getting himself in the way and throwing well 
planned things into disorder, much to his own sur- 
prise, for he looked chiefly at his motives and as- 
pirations, without paying much attention to his 
ability to execute; and Mrs. Flemming and Eva 
were employed in some household sewing in the 
family room, gossiping cheerily over the little af- 
fairs of the neighborhood, but abstaining from all 
mahce^or slander — that was one of the moral laws 
of this fapiily to which they scrupulously adhered 


112 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


— when George Merill came in, his well-knit, 
handsome form set off by a plain rich city suit of 
broadcloth, and his fine face aglow with hopeful, 
healthy vitality; and both the women thought 
they had never seen him so noble-looking and at- 
tractive. They shook hands ; and Mrs. Flemming 
inquired after his grandfather’s health. He was 
well,” George said ; “ but my grandfather’s rehgion 
seems to hurt all the time like a tight boot. I 
don’t mean any disrespect, Mrs. Flemming; but, 
except one or two, here aud there, people’s natures 
appear to be affected by religion just as a green 
persimmon does a fellow’s mouth ; it puckers them 
up morally, and makes them crabbed. I can’t 
make it out, and shouldn’t bother mj^self over it, 
only my grandfather and some of his friends are 
forever preaching to me, that I get heartily sick 
of it.” 

“ Your grandfather is a faithful minister of God’s 
word, George, ^and you ought to be ashamed of 
yourself to try to show off your city smartness at 
his expense,” said Mrs. Flemming. 

“Yes, my grandfather is a good man, Mrs. 
Flemming ; but he is troubled with spiritual hypo- 
chondria, which gives him awful notions of things ; 
in fact, I don’t call a thing that makes a man mise- 
rable, religion ; at least, if it is, it don’t suit me. 
But I don’t pretend to make it out ; some of these 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


113 


days I’ll try to, perhaps. I am going away, to- 
morrow, and I came down to shake hands with 
everybody,” he said, looking at Eva. 

“ I guess we shall all miss you, George,” she 
said frankly. 

I am glad to think that I shall be missed,” he 
rephed gravely. 

“ You have taken a good long holiday ; but I 
expect you’ll go back and forget your country 
friends, amid the great city folk,” said Mrs. Flem- 
ming. 

“ No,” he answered simply ; ‘‘ I shall never forget 
them. There is nothing in Boston that I like half 
so well as being here. Where is everybody to-day ? ” 

‘‘ Father and Beuben are among the stock, look- 
ing after some pigs that need currying. Nick and 
Hope went up to see Huldah ; but I expect them 
back presently,” said Mrs. Fremming. Then it 
seemed to occur to her that George, here at the 
last moment, might wish to say something to Eva, 
and she rose up saying, ‘^she would go and see 
where father and Buby were, and bring them in ; 
she knew they would be sorry to hear that he was 
going away;” and she gathered up her work, 
dropped it into the work-basket, and fluttered out. 

George Merill drew his chair closer to Eva’s, 
and said, ‘‘ It depends upon you, Eva, whether or 
not I ever come back.” 


114 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“I hope not, George,” she replied, while the 
roses faded out of her cheek. 

“ You hope not ! ” he repeated. ‘‘ It does, I tell 
you, depend upon the answer you give me now. I 
love you, Eva. Ever since we were children, 
you know you were always my little sweetheart 
when we went to school together. I have loved 
you, and the hope of one day winning you for my 
wife has been the incentive to all my best exer- 
tions, and the safeguard of my manhood and 
honor. What have you to say to me ? ” 

‘‘ I am sorry, George ; ” and the girl’s voice was 
tremulous with pity ; I am sorry to pain you ; 
but—” 

“ Don’t, Eva ; don’t ! ” he cried, putting forth his 
hand with a deprecatory gesture ; ‘‘ don’t tell me 
that all my patient waiting and love goes for noth- 
ing. I couldn’t stand that ; indeed I couldn’t.” 

You must have courage, George,” she said at 
last, as she lifted her pure, honest eyes, so like her 
father’s, and looked frankly into his. “I cannot 
return the preference you have honored me with. 
It is kind of you to think so well of me, and I 
thank you for it ; but I can give you no hope be- 
yond my friendship.” 

But why — why, Eva ? What is there in me so 
repulsive and disagreeable that you refuse to allow 
me at least to hope to win you ? ” he exclaimed. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


115 


No, there is nothing of that sort, George ; on 
the contrary, I do not know any one who has 
greater personal advantages, and I have a tho- 
rough hking and respect for you, such as I have 
my father and brothers ” 

‘‘But, perhaps,” he interrupted almost rudely, 
“ there is some other person towards whom your 
liking goes a httle farther than this dutiful kindred 
sentiment ! ” 

“ That is none of your business, George Merill ! ” 
she answered, while an angry Hght flashed for a 
moment in her eyes. Then pitying him for the 
breaking up of the hopes that had brightened his 
dreams so long, she added more gently, “There is 
no other person.” 

“ Then I ivill hope, Eva. Eemember, I will not 
give you up ; I will write to you, I will come ; I will 
importune you, and bear with your caprices and 
wait patiently; but I wiUnot give you up, remem- 
ber that,” he said. 

“ It will be all useless, George ; and you will waste 
the best years of your life in an idle pursuit. I 
will not receive your letters. As a friend of the 
family, I will give you welcome when you come, but 
nothing more,” she said in a grave determined 
tone. 

Just then the Elder and Reuben came in, and 
there, was a great hand-shaking, in the midst of 


116 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


which Hope and Nicholas arrived. They had heard 
at Deacon Sneathen’s that George was going, and 
went up to Father Bay’s to see him ; but he was 
not at home, and the housekeeper told them he 
had gone up to John Wilde’s ; but here he was, to 
their great joy, at their own fireside; and the 
pleasant, friendly things that were said to him, and 
the sorrow they all expressed at his going away, 
should have consoled him, but it did not, and he 
felt so hurt and disappointed that he could not 
stand it, but got up to take leave and go. 


CHAPTEE IX. 

THE FLOATING SHADOW. 

Don’t forget old friends, George,” said the 
Elder. 

“ No fear of that, sir,” he rephed, while they 
shook hands ; then, with a frank audacity, full, 
however, of an honest purpose to fight his battle 
out single-handed, he added : ‘‘ Since I am sure 
of your friendship, sir, may I hope for something 
more 

“ You could not be too near to us, George,” said 
the Elder, something at a loss how to jinswer him ; 


THE FLEMMINGS. 117 

but the sincerity of his soul asserted itself, and he 
merely uttered the simple truth. 

‘‘ And you, Mrs. Flemming — you know I want 
Eva for my wife,” he blurted out. 

‘‘ You have my best wishes, George,” she replied, 
while a soft womanly blush stole over her face from 
the shock of his strange, outspoken wooing, and 
the sudden fulfilment of her hopes for her child. 

‘‘ But what does Eva say ? Of course ” 

Eva,” he interrupted, gives me no encourage- 
ment.” 

And,” interrupted Eva, as she stood with her 
arm carelessly thrown over Hope’s shoulder, while 
an angry sparkle flashed in her eyes, ‘‘ you ask the 
influence of my parents when I have already an- 
swered you, and complain of me. Fie upon you, 
George Merill.” 

“ Not so, Eva !” he answered bravely I only 
do what any other honorable man would. I ask 
their sanction of my endeavor to win you ; for al- 
though you have answered me, and pretty decidedly 
too, remember I do not accept your answer. I told 
you that ; and knowing that you all have no secrets 
from one another, I speak openly, and tell you 
again, before them all, that I will not give you up. 
I intend to persevere in my suit until my faithful- 
ness and constancy shall win you,” he added man- 
fully. 

/ 


118 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ It will be so mucli time wasted, George. Since 
you are so very frank in your wooing, I will be 
equally so ; and I positively decline, before all these 
witnesses, your offer,” said Eva with spirit. 

“ Do not be too hasty, Eva !” said Mrs. Flemming, 
whose breath was almost taken away by the scene. 

“It is not the result of hastiness or caprice, 
mother. I like George Merill, and wish him well,” 
she replied ; “ but he might as well Imow, up and 
down, for good and all, that I will not marry him. 
It is no use for him to set his mind upon it, and 
lose chances in Boston which will suit him better. 
Besides, what is the use of a man throwing his life 
backwards in such waste ? For myself I don’t in- 
tend to marry. I am going to be the old maid of 
the family.” 

“ Well, good-by, Eva. All that you say makes 
no dijSference to me. I shall come again, and per- 
haps you will change your mind. I don’t know 
whatever I have done to make you hate me so 
and George held out his hand towards her to shake 
hands, but she withheld hers. 

“ I do not hate you ; you know that I don’t ; I 
only treat you as one honorable person should treat 
another, by telling you the truth. I have no idea 
of marrying. It does not seem to me that marry- 
ing should be the sole end and aim of a woman’s 
life ; and I am very happy here,” she said bravely. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


119 


“ You are heartless, Eva.’’ 

“ No, I am not heartless, George, and you have 
no right to say that. I am sorry to have pained 
you, for you are like a brother ; and Nick and Reu- 
ben were never angry with me in their lives. 
Surely you would not like a wife who could not love 
you,” she said, pittying the grief and disappoint- 
ment that she saw surging up in his eyes. 

“ Yes, Eva, because I know that in time I could 
win your love,” he said quickly, hoping that she 
would relent. 

“There has been enough of this, George. I 
wish you well with all my heart,” said Eva, to 
whom the scene was becoming more painful and 
embarrassing. Then she turned abruptly away 
and left the room, without throwing another word 
or look towards him. About five minutes later she 
heard his horse galloping off as if his rider had 
dug the spurs pretty deeply into his sides. 

No one said a word to Eva about George Merill : 
indeed, no one saw her until supper time, for she 
had gone straight up to her room, and shut her- 
self in, then had a good womanly cry, for she was 
both sorry and exasperated r sorry to have brought 
such a disappointment into her old school-fellow’s 
life, and angry at his presumption in assuming the 
position he did after she had positively rejected 
him ; but most of all was she mortified at the 


120 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


scene wliicli had just taken place in the presence 
of the family. Eya Flemming could not brook ’ 
being treated like a capricious child, when she 
knew how perfectly in earnest she was, and her 
firm purpose, as George Merrill should find out to 
his cost. After supper, when they were all gath- 
ered around the old hearth, as usual, a casual ob- 
server could have detected no change. The fire 
burned brightly; between the andirons simmered 
a row of great juicy red apples ; a httle farther off 
stood a large stone pitcher of cider, slowly warm- 
ing ; on the other side the cat was curled up asleep 
at Eeuben’s feet, as he sat reading. They talked 
to each other, trying to be cheerful ; but there was 
a restraint; and one after another they dropped 
into silence, which nothing interrupted except the 
crackling of the fire, the rustle of paper, as the 
Elder and Keuben — both reading — turned the 
pages of their books, and the sharp, rapid click 
of Mrs. Flemming’s knitting needles. At last the 
Elder closed his book, and looking around at the 
serious faces, he said, “ It seems to me that you 
are all uncommonly quiet to-night ! I scarcely 
feel at home, mother— what is it all ?” 

‘‘Don’t bother about us, father. I guess we 
shall overget the trouble, whatever it is,” said Mrs. 
Flemming, in her quick, sharp way.* Nicholas 
thrust his hands down into his pockets, and tilting 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


121 


back his chair, looked up at the black rafters fes- 
tooned with sweet-smelling herbs overhead, and 
whistled to himself. Eeuben laid his book down 
over his knee, and turned his soft, mild eyes in- 
quiringly from one to another. Hope felt her face 
redden as if she were the guilty one, and stole her 
hand down and folded her sister’s lovingly in it ; 
but she — Eva — a little paler than usual, lifted her 
handsome eyes, and looked steadily at the unquiet 
countenances around her, and felt intuitively that 
if they were not displeased with her, she had at 
least disappointed them all. Her afifectionate na- 
ture was pained to think that she should be the 
first to create a discord in the family harmony, 
always so perfect ; but it was a way the Flem- 
mings had, to have no secrets from each other, and 
speak out openly of whatever troubled them; so 
she took heart and said : 

“I guess, father, that I am the cause of the quiet 
that you complain of. I’m afraid that you are all 
displeased by what I said to George Merill.” 

“ I’m sorry for George, that’s a fact,” said the 
Elder ; “ he’s a great favorite of mine, and of all of 
us ; and I should have liked him well for my son- 
in-law ; but when that is said, all is said that is in 
my heart about it ; for, as much as I like him. I 
value you and your happiness still more. You 
have not offended me, daughter.” 


122 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Thank yon, dear father,” said Eva, while her 
voice trembled with emotion. It was much for 
her to be assured that her father, whom she idol- 
ized, was not angry with her ; but the rest 

“Well!” said Nicholas, “my opinion is that 
George is a man that any girl might be proud of ; 
and it looks to me like a foolish caprice to throw 
him over like that.” 

“ It would be a silly caprice, and a wicked one, 
too, Nick, for Huldah to throw yon over ; but the 
cases, you Imow, are entirely different,” said Eva, 
with spirit. Nicholas subsided and held his peace, 
for this came directly home to him. 

“ George will be a very rich man. The minister 
told me that he had outlying lots in Boston ; that 
when the city stretched out to them — which it is 
fast doing — George would be worth hundreds of 
of thousands of dollars. Just think of that, now,” 
said Mrs. Flemming, with a quick snap of her fine 
black eyes. 

“I am glad to hear that, mother, for his own 
sake,” said Eva, quietly ; “ for he will more easily 
forget his disappointment up here when he takes 
hold on the cares and glitter of riches. I do not 
care for money myself — at least as the price of 
what I should consider dishonor — for I do not love 
George Merill, and if I married him for his money, 
I should be ashamed to look him in the face.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


123 


To be sure you would,” said Hope, speaking 
for the first time, and I should be ashamed for 
you.” 

George promised to take me over the seas to 
see the fine pictures of the old masters,” said Reu- 
ben, with a sigh ; “ but I guess that’s all up now;’’ 
Even Reuben reproached her; but she laughed 
and said : 

“ Perhaps not. I think there is something be- 
tween you and the old pictures that, will sooner or 
later bring you together. Ruby.” 

‘‘ Don’t put such stuff into his head, Eva,” said 
her mother, curtly. 

Is it stuff, mother ? I only meant to comfort 
him !” she answered, with a sad smile, while her 
eyes fiashed with unshed tears ; the strain was get- 
ting too much for her. 

‘^Yes, I call it downright stuff. Reuben must 
learn to be useful, and not expect to go about the 
world mooning and daubing, and doing nothing 
but read.” Reuben sighed, picked up his book 
and sought refuge on the heights of the ideal, and 
soon forgot the family discussion going on around 
him. His mother always let such a douche down 
on him that he was glad to escape, shivering with 
the shock and chill of it. ‘‘ And I think, Eva, since 
we have come to talk of it,” continued Mrs. Flem- 
ming, after quenching Reuben, “ that you have 


124 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


done a very foolisli thing to reject George Merrill.” 

I am sorry, mother,” she said, gravely ; ‘‘ but I 
do not wish to marry — least of all will I marry 
George Merrill.” 

“ Many a one just as positive as you are have 
changed their mind,” said Mrs. Flemming. “ There’s 
Prudence Kogers ; why, she and Sam hated each 
other after they got acquainted, for more than a 
year ; then, after all, got married ; and there was 
not a happier couple about, was there, father ?” 

‘‘ And I read once of an audacious man that beat 
and cuffed and kicked a high-born lady who had 
refused his suit ; and she, either to wipe out the in- 
sult, or because she was afraid that the next time 
he would kill her, married him. But if George has 
the spirit of William of Normandy, he’ll find no Ma- 
tilda of Flanders in me, mother,” exclaimed Eva, 
whose spirit was up so high that she could not wait 
to hear the history of Sam Rogers’ happy marriage. 

Well, perhaps you’ll repent, Eva ; repentance 
and changing one’s mind are perhaps different 
things,” said Mrs. Flemming, with a provoking 
smile. 

‘‘ I shall never repent of this, mother, rest as- 
sured of it. I ask nothing better than to stay here 
with you and my father in the dear old place where 
I was born, as long as I five,” said Eva, more 
quietly. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


125 


‘‘And here you are welcome, my child, as long as 
you live,” said the Elder. “ Your mother and I 
ought to rejoice if we can keep you ; for the old 
place will seem too empty and silent when you all 
go away to new homes.” 

“ Well, well, don’t fret over what I said, Eva, I 
am outspoken. I am disappointed ; there’s no use 
denying it. I should be glad to think I’d have you 
with me all my life ; but I don’t want you to be an 
old maid, hke that forlorn, dried-up old aunt of 
Huldah Sneathen’s,” said Mrs. Elemming, whose 
mother-heart, always true and good in its instincts, 
was at last touched. Pride and ambition for her 
beautiful child had held sway long enough — it was 
pulsing to the right music now; and Eva went 
over, and drawing up a low cushion, sat at her feet, 
and leaning upon her knees, lifted her eyes appeal- 
ingly to her face and said, “ Then you are not 
angry with me, darling r” 

“ Well — no — I’m not angry,” she replied, while 
she laid down her knitting and smoothed the soft, 
golden brown hair away from Eva’s pure forehead. 
“ I can’t say that I’m angry, but disappointed. I 
had counted so on seeing you a great lady down 
to Boston ” 

“ Wife ! wife ! ” exclaimed the Elder. 

“ Why ! mother ! ” said Hope. 

“ It’s no use,” said Mrs. Elemming. 


I mean 


126 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


just what 1 say. I counted on seeing her a fine 
lady in Boston, riding in her own carriage and 
dressed in rich silks, laces and jewels, and showing 
that the New Hampshire hills are no way behind 
the flats of Massachusetts in the way of handsome 
women. Now if that’s a sin, it is out, and I’m 
done with it ; so let the subject be dropped.” 

Eva buried her burning face in her hands. She 
felt humiliated to think that her own mother had 
been having such sordid thoughts about her. The 
Elder did not speak for several minutes, but kept 
w^alking up and down, while the knitting needles 
clicked with vim. At last the Elder said slowly, in 
his kindly, even tones, “My daughter, you did 
right. You have my approval.” 

“ Thank you, father,” she replied very quietly. 

“ Now let us be as we w^ere before,” said Hope, 
snuffing the candle. “ I declare I feel as if we had 
been in a Scotch mist.” 

And they tried “ being as they were before ; ” but 
the shadow had flitted over them, and each one 
had an indescribable and indefinite prevision that 
the harmony of their life was broken. But Mrs. 
Flemming began to talk of farm matters and the 
coming spring work, a subject always full of inter- 
est to her, and asked, “ What are you going to do 
with that corner lot, father ? It’s a perfect quag- 
mire.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 127 

‘‘Drain it, and put down Swedish turnips, I 
think.” 

“ It’s a great waste of soil, I think. They’re 
nasty things.” 

“ I like the sharp taste of them, rather,” he re- 
plied ; “ they are splendid winter feeding for stock, 
and will make your butter look like gold, mother.” 

“ Yes, I guess they will. I hope you’ll put down 
a good lot of mercer potatoes on that slope ; they’ll 
come early there, and fetch a high price. I should 
not wonder if you get four or five dollars a barrel.” 

“ Yes, they’ll bring about that, if I can get them 
into the market early enough. But if we have a 
late,, soggy spring, how then ?” 

“ It’ll be a poor chance for early potatoes, and hard 
on people who have nothing but their crops to de- 
pend on. Have you seen the Deacon lately, father?” 

“ No. I shall have to see him in a day or two, 
g^bout that lumber business. Our partnership ex- 
pires in a month or so ; and if he should take it 
, into his head to make a change, it will be a great 
disappointment as well as loss to me.” 

“ Land-sakes ! such a thought never entered my 
head,” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming. “Why! what 
are you thinking about? The idea of Deacon 
Sneathen throwing you over for anybody else, and 
just now, too, when you are clearing something on 
your outlay 1” 


128 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ It does seem like sheer nonsense, even to think 
of such a thing,” put in Nicholas, who had been 
amusing himself tickling the cat’s ear with a straw. 
“ The Deacon was only talking about it last night, 
and seemed very anxious to know if you’d like to 
keep on for another term, father.” 

“Was he?” remarked the Elder, folding his 
hands behind him, while he still walked up and 
down. “ I hope he will continue in the same mind. 
The business is a profitable one.” 


CHAPTER X. 

MRS. FLEMMING HAS A GREAT SHOCK. 

The snow was beginning to melt on the south- 
ern slopes of the hills, and in sheltered nooks the 
star-wort shot its dark waxen leaves up among the 
soft green mosses, while now and then, on sunny 
mild days, the low musical warble of the bluebird 
— like stray notes from heaven — floated out and 
melted on the air. It was cold enough yet, with 
too much frost in the ground for ploughing, and 
too much frost in the air for the regular out-door 
farm work to begin ; but there was no lack of Avork 
for all that. The men were busy getting their 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


129 


farming implements in order, burning brush, haul- 
ing manure, and mending fences. The Elder was 
busy fencing in a piece of poor land, which per- 
sisted in growing nothing but wire grass, to turn 
his sheep into as soon as spring opened, and on 
rainy days in manufacturing the framework of a 
hay-tedder, having bought the metal teeth from a 
travelling agent of the inventor the preceding au- 
tumn. Hay-tedders were novelties then, and all 
novelties were looked upon then, as now, by old 
practical farmers, as ruinous innovations ; but the 
Elder had lost a whole field of hay last season for 
want of hands to get it in in time, and having seen 
a hay-tedder at work somewhere down the coun- 
try, was so convinced of its utility that he deter- 
mined to defy prejudice, and use one upon his 
farm. He had great mechanical genius, and being 
very much interested in his experiment, had suc- 
ceeded in making, from the diagram furnished by 
the agent, a tedder which would have borne favor- 
able comparison with those made in Boston. 
Nicholas had gone back to the pine forest, and 
Beuben was happy at last in the prospect of 
making himself useful : he was to paint the 
window frames and doors of the old homestead, a 
plan about which Mrs. Flemming had serious mis- 
givings, for she was ‘‘ morally sure,” she declared, 
“ that before they knew where they were, Beuben 


130 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


would have faces staring out at them from the pan- 
els, and the house would look like a circus; he 
couldn’t help it, poor boy ; he was possessed, she 
was afraid; poor, dear Euby! and she couldn’t 
think, for the hfe of her, what ever would become 
of him.” But the Elder laughed and told her not 
to fret, that he would see that there were no faces 
painted upon the panels. The girls were also busy 
preparing Hope’s wedding outfit, for she was to be 
married in May to John Wilde, which, together 
with their regular domestic duties, left them no 
idle time ; while Mrs. Flemming helped everybody, 
governed her household and administered its af- 
fairs with reference to the comfort and well-being 
of all, and had, every day, two hours left for her 
carpet weaving. One letter had come to Eva from 
George Merill, which she gave unopened to her 
father, declining altogether to read it, who put it 
away into a private drawer of his desk, with a 
natural regret that Eva had set her face so reso- 
lutely against her own interests ; but he made no 
remark one way or the other on the subject, nor 
did any of the rest of them. 

One day Huldah Sneathen and her aunt. Miss 
Deborah Wyatt, came to spend the day with the 
Flemmings. The girls huddled together over the 
fine and beautifully made lingerie of Hope’s h^ous- 
seaUy and talked, and chattered, and cut patterns, 


4 

THE FLEMMINGS. 


131 


and sewed on ruffles, and embroidered, until we 
would bave thought they must exhaust themselves, 
but the subject and the work were too interesting 
by far for that, and their nimble tongues and fin- 
gers, instead of showing signs of weariness, grew 
more voluble and busy every moment. Mrs. Flem- 
ming and Miss Deborah were entertaining each 
other in their peculiar way, Mrs. Flemming in- 
wardly fretting over the two hours she was obliged 
to lose at the loom ; but nothing loth, and with a 
pardonable motherly pride, to talk over Hope’s 
good prospects, to all of which Miss Deborah lis- 
tened with an expression on her countenance which 
said plainly: ‘‘I hope you won’t be disappoint- 
ed which meant — when literally translated — “ I 
shouldn’t be sorry if you were.” She was an an- 
gular, uncomfortable-looking person, and had a 
way of cocking up her nose and chin to take 
square aim with her eyes whenever she addressed 
any one, which was embarrassing to some, and al- 
most terrifying to such as had weak nerves. She 
had never been handsome, and the wine of her life 
had long ago turned to vinegar. She wore her 
thin dry hair drawn up to a knot on the top of her 
head, and rolled into two little flat rings on each 
side of her narrow forehead, where they were held 
in place by side combs. Her eyes were sunken 
but sharp, and her voice thin and wiry, but, a^j 


132 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


old Sarali Gill said, went tlirough and through 
your head, like a gimlet.” Her neck was long, 
wrinkled, and decorated with two rows of large 
gold beads. Miss Debby’s fortune, invested in that 
shape for safe keeping and not for ornament, she 
having a dread of banks, and as little love for the 
vanities of the world, as her attire of plain dark 
woolen stuff, without braid, cord, or button to trim 
it, testified. She had kept house for her brother. 
Deacon Sneathen, ever since his wife died, and if 
Huldah hadn’t got a start in life under the tender, 
cheerful care of her mother, she would have been 
blighted and quenched by Miss Debby, w’ho was a 
firm believer in total depravity and that world-re- 
nowned precept of Solomon’s : “ Spare the rod and 
spoil the child,” which proves that Solomon with 
all his wisdom sometimes gave utterance to im- 
practicable theories. So, according to Miss Debby, 
there was no cure for total depravity in a child ex- 
cept the rod, until they reached the age of reason 
and obtained the ‘‘ saving evidence ” of conversion ; 
and she and Huldah had a spirited time of it, 
which resulted in Huldah’s setting everything that 
her aunt advocated at utter defiance, and heartily 
hatmg everything that she liked. So Huldah loved 
to dance, to sing songs, to read “Sir Charles 
Grandison,” and “ Evelina,” the only two novels 
she had ever seen, which she found one day in a 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


133 


barrel of old papers in tlie garret where she had 
been sent for punishment, and with which she was 
so charmed, that she repeated her offence next day 
and the day after, that she might be sent up there, 
where she could revel to her heart’s content in the 
new, wonderful world she had discovered. She 
loved to wear ribbons, laces and jewelry ; and she 
had some rare old treasures of both among the 
things her mother had left ; she liked ruffles and 
bright colors, and artificial fiowers, and “ purple and 
fine linen,” and now that she was grown, would 
never read the Bible at her aunt’s bidding ; or at 
all, unless she felt like it ; indeed, I’m afraid that 
Miss Debby had got Huldah to think of God pretty 
much as she used to think, when she was a child, 
of the ogre that lived in the clouds upon the top of 
Jack’s bean stalk. She shuddered when, sometimes 
alone in her mountain-side rambles and sometimes 
at midnight when the wintry storms were howling 
outside her windows, the thought of God, the stern 
and terrible Judge, the merciless executioner of 
justice and wrath, who might at any moment reach 
out His iron hand from the heavens and thrust her 
into the living and eternal flames of woe ; the God 
her aunt had taught her to believe in, came like a 
dark, fearful shadow into her heart, making her 
tremble and shrink even in the bright sunshine, and 
hide her head in her pillows in the darlmess. So 


134 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


it is not strange that Huldah grew up, under such 
influences, into a sort of amiable, light-hearted 
pagan, flying from all voluntary thoughts of this 
religion of horrors, and, like an epicurean priestess 
trying to cover the skeleton with flowers. Only in 
one thing had she profited by her aunt’s guardian- 
ship ; she knew all the mysteries of domestic econ- 
omy in all its branches, and was noted through the 
neighborhood as the “ nattiest, smartest” young girl 
in it. She liked house-keeping ; and having good 
taste and ambition, she beautified the old brown 
house under the elms, and excelled in all that she 
undertook. 

Miss Debby had already snubbed Mrs. Flemming 
— it was her way — and taken the girls to task for 
frivolity, when the Elder came in from his fence- 
building, his face all aglow with ruddy health, and 
gave cordial greeting to his guests, whom he was 
glad to see as neighbors, and because their coming 
seemed like a friendly indication of what he might 
expect about a renewal of the partnership, concern- 
ing which he had, somehow, without any tangible 
reason however, had strange misgivings. After he 
got fairly seated, and they were all waiting for din- 
ner, Miss Debby stuck Up her chin, and taking sure 
aim at him with her eyes, said sharply : 

‘‘ Wal, now. Elder, I hear you’re making one of 
them tedder things.” 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


135 


Yes ; I have it nearly finished. It is a good 
thing for harvesting hay.’’ 

‘‘ It’s a great shame, to my thinking. It’s takmg 
the bread from the poor. I don’t hold with any 
such machinery !” she snorted out, elevating her 
chin still higher. 

Labor’s hard to get sometimes ; meanwhile the 
hay gets spoiled. The tedder works so fast that 
you can go over your field three or four times if it 
is* necessary, and if there’s a good hot sun, get 
heavy grass cured enough to go in the same day.” 

“ I don’t believe a word of it. I don’t like new- 
fangled things. They’re unlucky. I saw one of 
them things at work in Captain Jones** field last 
summer, and it looked like a grasshopper kicking 
out its legs. It seems fooHng with Providence, and 
wUl make our lads as lady as Virginny nigger 
drivers.” 

“ The world moves on. Miss Debby, in * spite of 
prejudice, and I’m afraid you’ll see more tedders 
than mine at work this harvest,” he said with a 
quiet smile. 

‘‘ And I hear you’re hauling pond muck to put 
on your fields ! Land sakes. Elder Flemming ! I 
think you must be getting a screw looser in the 
head in your old days ! Who ever heard the like !” 
she said. 


136 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ It’s one of the best fertilizers in the world,” he 
replied, good-humoredly. 

“ You got that out of books, I suppose ! Book- 
farming’s ruined more men than a few.” 

‘‘ I’m a pretty old farmer,” said the Elder, poking 
up the fire, with just a shadow of annoyance in his 
countenance, but I don’t think pond mud will ruin 
me, if I do get the notion from the ‘ Farmer.’ You’d 
better try some on that slip of ground west of your 
orchard, where nothing will grow but rag-weed.” 

Miss Debby sniffed and was silent. That sterile 
lot was the eye-sore of her life ; and the Elder 
cordd not have found a more certain means to end 
their dispute than the mention of it, if he had taxed 
his ingenuity for an hour. Then she turned sharply 
around toward the girls and said, “ Eva, how could 
you fiirt so with George Merill ? I’d like to see 
Huldah treat anybody so.” 

Eva’s face crimsoned, but she made no answer. 
“ I say, it was shameful of you, Eva, and he so rich 
and handsome. Land sakes ! have you lost your 
tongue !” 

“ I have never fiirted with any one. Miss Debb}". 
Hope, give me that sleeve,, and tell me how it shall 
be trimmed,” said Eva quietly. 

“Wal! and so techy about it, too. There, must 
be something in it. I wish Huldah had such a 
chance.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


137 


“I wish she hadn’t, then,” answered Huldah 
saucily. I wonder you didn’t set your cap for 
him. Aunt Deb.” The old lady bridled, and got 
red in the end of her nose ; but the subject was 
quenched. Then, defeated on one point, she flew 
to another, and said, turning toward the Elder : 

“ Next Sabbath’s Say crament day, ain’t it. Elder? 

‘^Yes.” 

“ That jest ’minds me, now I come to think about 
it : What become of^you the last three months at 
the table of the Lord’s Supper? I looked ’round and 
didn’t see you nor hear your voice, either singing, 
nor yet praying. The Deacon says you was up to 
the Pines.” 

“ Yes,” he replied, ‘‘ I was at the Pines.” 

“Wal, I s’pose you’ll be along Sabbath. It 
seems sort of strauge not to have you there in your 
place.” Fortunately, at this moment Reuben and 
his motlier came into the room together, and the 
cat running to meet Reuben, whose especial pet 
she was, he trod upon her tail without seeing her, 
and was so startled at her outcry and the tangle 
she got into under his feet that he lost his balance 
and pitched forward with full force, falling across 
Miss Debby’s lap, just as he, with a beaming smile, 
had stretched out his arm to shake hands with her, 
almost upsetting them and the chair together ; she 
instinctively grasping at something to save herself 


138 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


from falling, seized Eeuben’s long golden liair, and 
tlie next instant would liave boxed liis ears soundly, 
wlien Huldali grasped hold of her wrists, and with 
much laughter told Eeuben to escape, which he did 
forthwith, glad of the opportunity to get somewhere 
to laugh his fill. It was an absurd scene ; even the 
Elder’s grave eyes had a merry twinkle in them, 
and Mrs. Flemming was so choked with laughter 
that she could scarcely find breath enough to 
say : “ I declare ! I do wonder what will ever be- 
come of Euby ?” while Eva and Huldah and Hope, 
bent over their sewing almost in convulsions. Miss 
Debby gained her equilibrium, but not her temper, 
and went away directly after dinner, to the great 
relief of the Flemmings, to whose amiable and 
happy tempers she was under all circumstances and 
at all times a moral nettle. 

That evening Mrs. Flemming, after a long and 
thoughtful silence, said : ‘‘ Father, it does seem 
strange to me that you have not been to meeting 
the last three Sabbaths of the Lord’s Supper. I 
hope nothing will take you off next Sabbath.” 
She had been secretly troubled for weeks about 
this, but had forborne speaking, under the impres- 
sion that her husband’s absence from his usual 
conspicuous place on these solemn occasions was 
of absolute necessity ; but Miss Debby’s remarks, 
so full of ill-concealed malice, determined her to re- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


139 


lieve lier mind by speaking out. The Elder did 
not answer her at once ; he only moved uneasily m 
his chah, lowered his heavy eyebrows, and tapped 
slowly with his fingers on the page of the old Bible 
which he had been poring over. At last he said 
in a slow, deliberate voice : “ There’s no business 
to take me off. But I shall not he there'' Mrs. 
Flemming dropped her work and looked at him in 
speechless surprise, and in her face there was a 
flickering look of terror, an appeahng, silent demand 
for the meaning of his words. It had been laying 
heavy at her heart for three months, but she had 
kept silent, hoping that when the next “ Sacrament 
Sabbath” rolled round, her husband, of whom she 
was justly proud as the impersonation of all that 
was true and good in man, would be there at his 
post the burning and shining light, the golden 
candlestick of the sanctuary ; and now to hear this ! 
He would not be there ! 

“ Did I understand you, father ? Did you say 
that you would not be present at the Table of the 
Lord ?” asked Mrs. Flemming in a low, excited voice. 

‘‘ You did not misunderstand me, mother,” he 
replied, speaking slowly : “ I shall not go.” 

‘‘ And why ? Oh husband ! husband ! what does 
it mean ?” she exclaimed. It can’t be that you 
are a backslider after all these years of Christian, 
godly life ? You of all men !” 


140 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


I may be that in a sense/’ he answered, “ but 
I will not be a hj^ocrite.” 

“ Hypocrite ! Why, father, ivhat do you mean ? 
Eva, Hope, Eeuben ! go away ; I want to talk to 
father,” she exclaimed, almost beside herself. 

“Stay where you all are, children. I have no 
secrets from you, least of all in such matters as 
this,” said the Elder, lifting his head and looking 
out of the great truthful eyes from one to the other 
of them, as they, full of wonder at the strange scene, 
looked with almost frightened faces towards him. 
“ I have something to-say to you, wife and children, 
— a something which has troubled me for years, and 
made a miserable man of me whenever I have par- 
taken of the bread and wine of the Sacrament. I 
would have kept my secret still buried in my own 
breast — for I know of no help for me — but, as you 
see yourselves, circumstances compel me, as it 
were, to reveal it, at least to you, my wife and chil- 
dren, for fear you may judge me as having been 
guilty of hidden sin, and be scandalized in me.” 

“ O Wolfert ! Wolfert Flemming ! what awful * 
temptation has got possession of you ?” exclaimed 
Mrs. Flemming, from whose face every vestige of 
color had fled, and whose eyes were dilated and 
fairly gleaming with excitement. 

“ I don’t know,” he said, sadly ; “ I don’t fully 
know, myself. I feel blind, like Sampson, and may. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


141 


be am pulKng the temple roof down to my own de- 
struction. But I can bear it no longer! I was not 
born to be a hypocrite — I’d rather die than be a 
hypocrite.” 

“Father,” said Eva, going round to him and 
standing by his side, while she laid her arm ten- 
derly about him and drew his grand, handsome 
head to her breast : “ Tell us what difficulty you 
are struggling with? We may not know how to 
help you, but we do know that whatever the 
cause is, it is an honest one, and we can respect 

and sympathize, and try to soothe . Oh, father ! 

you who are so truthful and good, lohy should you 
be so troubled ? It must be something of great 
weight to move you from your foundations like 
this.” 

“ Sandy foundations, child !” he said, folding her 
hand for a moment in his own. “ But I will un- 
bosom myself, then ; think as you may of me, you 
will never despise me for hypocrisy.” 

“ Dear father !” whispered Eva, leaning her cheek 
against his gray head. Mrs. Flemming could not 
speak. She put her hand to her throat once or 
twice, and a quick, deep-drawn breath, like a sob, 
escaped her lips ; and folding her hands together 
in her lap, she turned to listen to what her husband 
might have to say. 


142 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


^ OHAPTEE XL- 

LIGHT OUT OF DAEKNESS. 

She sat listening to hear what he might say, 
with a dull dazed feeling in her head, as if she had 
received a heavy blow upon it, wondering all the 
while if that strong energetic will and intelligent 
mind, to which she had been wont to look as to 
something higher and better than other men’s, 
were drifting into the eccentricities of coming mad- 
ness, so strange and terrible a thing it was to her to 
hear from her husband’s lips words which meant 
something little short of apostasy. Then, all tlap " 
consequences of such a fall sA^^ept like a torrent 
through her brain ; she saw his place empty in the 
sanctuary, his ‘‘ candlestick taken away ; ” she saw 
him shunned by old neighbors and friends, and in- 
stead of being looked up to by all as a model of 
every manly and christianly excellence, she saw 
him treated with contempt, pitied with cold sneers 
by some, avoided as a leper by others ; and as the 
possibilities of worldly misfortunes, dearth of pros- 
perity, and the ruin of her children’s prospects 
mingled gloomily together in her thoughts, she felt 
a tightness grasping her throat, like the clutch of 
old Massasquoi’s bony fingers, almost suffocating 
her. But she did not utter a word ; and with her 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


143 


slim little 'hands clasped tightly together, resting 
upon her knees, and her handsome black eyes flick- 
ering with the fever of her heart, she waited, won- 
dering if it was in the scope of human ingenuity to 
show good reasons for such backshding. She had 
not to wait long ; for the Elder, after glancing with 
grave but tender looks on the dear faces, all bent 
with anxious interest upon him, said : 

‘‘ It is a bad cause which can show no good rea- 
son to support it ; and while I do not seek to de- 
fend myself, which would argue that I doubt the 
justice of my conclusions, I am willing to explain 
to you, my wife and children, the cause of my 
refusal to partake any more of the Sacrament of 
the Lord’s Supper as administered among our- 
selves. I am not a learned man, and have but 
little knowledge of other religions outside the sect 
in which I was bred ; but from a constant study of 
the^ Scriptures, doubts and troubles have arisen in 
my mind, forcing me to the inevitable conclusion 
that my religious opinions are full of error and de- 
ceit ” Mrs. Flemming gasped for breath, and a 

spot of crimson flamed out on either cheek, while 
an evident tremor ran like an electric chord 
through the hearts of the rest ; but no one spoke, 
and the Elder went on : ‘‘I will not now go into 
the history of my doubts ; some other time will do; 
but I will explain, as I said before, why it is utterly 


141 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


impossible — unless I could stoop to a base hypoc- 
risy — for me to unite in a rite which strikes me as 
an audacious human invention entirely opposed to 
the plain and literal meaning of its divine Founder. 
To make myself better understood, I wish you to 
listen attentively, not losing a word, while I read 
to you the sixth chapter of St. John’s Gospel.* 
Then the Elder, in his clear even tones, read, slowly 
and impressively, the chapter from beginning to 
end — Eva still standing with her arm resting upon 
his shoulder, and her eyes fixed upon the page of 
the old Bible, with its quaint illustrations, from 
which her father read. When the last word drop- 
ped from his lips he again looked around him, and 
scanned with deep pity in his heart the counte- 
nances of those near and dear ones, to whose 
hearts he well knew he was bringing grief and dis- 
quiet. But as we said before, the Flemmings were 
people who let nothing obstruct the working out 
of a principle which to their mind was clearly 
right : and although the Elder felt the first throes 
of the sacrifice at hand, he went bravely on. “ The 
first thing,” he said, “ to be noticed in this chapter, 
is the account of the great miracle, the most won- 
derful perhaps that the Saviour had jet WTOUght ; 

* What follows was the genuine experience of an intelligent 
Protestant mind, who — at the time — had never heard of the 
doctrine of the Keal Presence, and we render it in all its simpli- 
city. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


145 


a miracle wMcli was a manifestation not only ot a 
divine power, but of a divine priesthood — and at 
the same time a figure and a fact : the figure and 
preliminary preparation for a great mystery which 
he was about to announce to them, and a fact by 
which the physical hunger of five thousand men, 
besides women and children, was satisfied with 
material bread, which, blessed by the Lord, was 
multiplied by His power in the hands of His apos- 
tles, who distributed it to the multitude. But the 
carnal-minded Jews recognized only the fact : their 
hunger had been appeased in a wonderful manner, 
and in the first flush of their gratitude they de- 
clared Him to be a great prophet, and would have 
taken Him by force and made Him a king, had He 
not fled from them, concealing Himself from their 
sight ; but they discerned neither the divinity of 
His power or the symbolic meaning of the miracu- 
lous feast, and cared for no other manifestations 
from Him than such material ones as would 
benefit themselves. ‘He is a wonder-worker,’ they 
thought, ‘ and can found a rich and powerful king- 
dom, of which we shall be the princes.’ Full of 
such thoughts, they determined to follow Him the 
next day, hoping to witness greater miracles.” 

“ In the next point there is a hidden and holy 
meaning to me, which seems separate from the 
great mystery of the mystic feast announced by the 


146 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Lord, and yet linked indissolubly with it in tlie 
order of faitli. I mean the appearance of the 
Saviour walking on the stormy waves of the mid- 
night sea. His disciples had sought for Him ; and 
not finding him, probably thought He had passed 
over to Capharnaum, and ‘ took ship’ to go thither ; 
when a storm arose, and coming out of the dark- 
ness of the night, walking upon the rough waves of 
the sea, they beheld a form advancing towards their 
ship, and they were terrified, thinking that it was 
a spirit, until He spoke : ‘ Be not afraid. It is I.’ 
In this miracle he revealed Himself in a real and 
spiritual presence, disguised by the miraculous 
character of the occasion, which was utterl}^ at vari- 
ance with every natural law ; and they did not know 
Him, until He said : ‘ It is I ’ — when, consoled and 
full of joy, they took Him into the sliip ; a lesson, 
it seems to one, of faith to His own disciples, some 
of whom, we shall presently see, after all, turned 
back and walked with Him no more. 

“ The third point to be considered is His dis- 
course on the bread of life, in which He declares 
Himself to be the Son of God, and enforces the ne- 
cessity of ‘ believing in Him,’ as a condition to in- 
herit eternal life — meaning clearly, from what fol- 
lows, a belief in His doctrines, especially in the 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


147 


great and mysterious one of tlie partaking of His 
body and blood.* 

“ The next day, the multitude who had been fed 
— full of human curiosity and ambitious designs — 
sought for Jesus ; but not finding him, ‘ they took 
shipping’ and came across the sea of Tiberias to 
Capharnaum, where they found Him teaching in 
the synagogue. They said to Him : Eabbi, when 
earnest Thou hither ? 

“Then Jesus rebuked them saying : Amen, amen, I say unto 
you, you seek Me, not because you have seen miracles, but be- 
cause you did eat of the loaves, and were filled. Labor not for 
the meat which perisheth, but for that which endureth unto eternal life 
which the Son of man will give you. For Him hath God the 
Father sealed. 

“ What shall we do, that we may work the works of God ? they 
said to Him. 

“ This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He 
hath sent : Jesus answered them. 

‘ ‘ What sign dost Thou show us that we may see, and may 
believe Thee? they said therefore to Him. What dost Thou 
work ? Our fathers did eat manna in the desert ; as it is writ- 
ten : He gave them bread from heaven to eat. 

“Amen, amen I say to you : Moses gave you not bread from 
heaven ; but my Fatheb giveth you the teue beead eeom 
HEAVEN ; Jesus said unto them. 

“Lord ! give us always this bread ! they besought Him. 

“I AM THE BEEAD OF LIFE I he that cometh to Me shall not 
hunger ; and he that believeth in Me, shall never thirst : Jesus 
said to them. But I said to you, that you also have seen Me, 
and do not believe. All that the Father giveth Me shall come 

* The reader must keep in mind that these impressions are 
the unaided results of an uninstructed Protestant experience, 
and the writer is only transferring them from a regularly-kept 
journal to her pages. 


148 


THE ELEMMINGS. 


to Me ; and him that cometh to Me I will not cast out : Because 
I came down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of 
Him that sent Me. Now this is the will of the Father who sent 
Me, that of all he hath given Me, I shall lose nothing, but should 
raise it up again at the last day. And this is the will of my 
Father that sent Me ; that every one that seeth the Son and be- 
lieveth in Him, * may have everlasting life, and I will raise him 
up on the last day.” 

“ Then the Jews” — still discerning nothing beyond their car- 
nal ideas — murmured at Him, not because He had said He was 
the Son of the Father, but because He said : I am the living 
bread which came down from Heaven. “And they said: Is 
not this Jesus the son of Joseph, whose father and mother -we 
know ? How then saith he, I came down from heaven. 

“Murmur not among yourselves,” Jesus answered and said 
unto them : “No man can come to Me, except the Father, who 
hath sent Me, draw him if and I will raise him up at the last 
day. It is written in the prophets : And they shall all be taught 
of God. Every one that hath heard of the Father, and hath 
learned cometh to Me. Not that any man hath seen the Father, 
but he who is of God, he hath seen the Father. Amen, amen I 
say unto you : he that believeth in Me, hath eternal life'^ 

“ Now/’ said tlie Elder, looking out of liis grave 
gentle eyes with unspeakable love upon them all, as 
they sat reverently listening, “we hear how sol- 
emnly and emphatically He declares, over and 
again. His divinity, in calling Himself ‘ the Son of 
the Father,’ who ‘ had seen the face of the Father,’ 
who ‘ had been sent to do the will of the Father,’ 
and so on ; and how He insists on their believing in 
Him as a primary and absolute condition to their 
inheriting eternal life. Do we believe Him to be 
the Son of the Father, or do we not?” 

♦ Beceiving Him in the Blessed Sacrament. 

t Not by compulsion, nor by la;^dng the free-will under any neces- 
sity, but by the strong sweet motions of heavenly grace. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


149 


We believe that ! How can any one, who be- 
lieves the Bible at all, doubt that?” said Mrs. 
Flemming quickly. ‘‘ And believing that He is the 
Son of God, and our Eedeemer who died for our 
salvation, is enough. It is all that is required of 
us. God is not pleased with subleties.” 

‘‘ No ; God is not pleased with subtleties,” said 
the Elder in his calm, quiet way. “ And it seems 
to me, from what follows, that something more 
than a personal and historical belief in Him is ne- 
cessary. This belief must embrace the accepfcince 
of His doctrines. The devils themselves — as we 
are told in holy writ — believe and tremble, but 
their belief is without profit ; therefore He must 
have had a deeper meaning in exhorting them to 
believe in Him than is now apparent. There are no 
half-way doings with God. We must believe en- 
tirely not only in His existence, but in His law re- 
vealed to us by Jesus Christ His Son. 

“ Up to this point of our Saviour’s discourse all 
seems easy, because it sounds symbolic or figura- 
tive, and can be adapted in a mystical sense to our 
spiritual comprehension ; but I believe with all the 
power of my soul that He was teaching a substan- 
tial truth, hence I am no longer satisfied with either 
type or shadow, and will seek for the substance, 
which is Himself under the form of bread. He 
speaks of three sorts of bread. The first is that with 


150 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


whicli lie He fed the five thousand on the mountain 
— a miraculous bread, miraculously multiplied, and 
figurative of a greater mystery ; but He calls it 
‘ meat which perisheth’ ; the second is manna, 
wliich the Jews called ‘bread from heaven,’ but 
which Jesus declares with the solemnity of an oath 
was not : ‘ Amen, amen I say unto you : Moses 

gave them not bread from Heaven I am the 

bread of life.’ Here now w^ have the third kind of 
bxead, and He tells us what it is : ‘ Your fathers 
did ^t manna in the desert, and are dead. This 
is the bread which cometh do^vn from heaven : that 
if any man eat of it he may not die. I am the liv- 
ing bread which came down from heaven. If 
any man eat of this bread, he shall five forever : 
and the bread which I will give, is My fiesh for the 
life of the world.’ 

“ When the Jews heard these sayings, they strove 
amongst themselves, thinking He meant His flesh 
in a carnal sense, and said to one another : ‘ How 
can this man give us His flesh to eat ?’ Here was 
the time and opportunity for Jesus to have ex- 
plained His meaning if He spoke a parable, or 
meant His words to be understood in a figurative 
sense ; for He knew that He was speaking through 
them to all time, and it would have been the work 
of a devil and not of God to leave them in error on 
so vital a question. He saw how eagerly they 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


151 


awaited His answer, and how the minds of His own 
disciples were troubled by His words ; but, so far 
from doing this, He declared in plainer terms if 
possible, ratified by the solemnity of an oath, the 
same mystery : ‘ Amen, amen I say unto you : ex- 
cept you eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink 
His blood, you shall not have hfe in you.’ Who 
was the Son of man? Himself. Who was He? 
Jesus Christ. Who was Jesus Christ ? The Son 
of God. We believe this. Then must we also be- 
lieve Him when He tells us how we are to believe 
in Him, when He declares squarely and without a 
shadow of prevarication or hidden meaning, in 
simple, straightforward, but awful words : ‘ He that 
eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood hath ever-^ 
lasting hfe : and I will raise him up in the last day. 
For My flesh is meat indeed ; and My blood is 
drink indeed. He that eateth My flesh, and drink- 
eth My blood, abideth in Me, and I in him. As 
the hving Father hath sent Me, and I five by the 
Father : so he that eateth Me, the same also shall 
live by Me. This is the bread which came down 
from heaven. Not as your fathers did eat manna, 
and are dead. He that eateth this bread shall live 
forever.’ Not only the Jews who thronged the 
synagogue that day to hear His words scoffed and 
cavilled at His doctrines, but some of His own dis- 
ciples, who had witnessed the multiplication of the 


152 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


loaves, and afterwards on tlie midnight sea had 
seen Him walking upon the stormy waters — ^who, 
terrified because they thought it was a spirit, were 
consoled by His voice whispering : ‘ It is I : be not 
afraid,’ and took Him into their ship with joy — 
doubted Him now, and turning back walked with 
Him no more. But He did not recall them. They 
‘ had seen Him and did not believe they had been 
taught of God, but profited nothing. We believe 
in Him as the Eternal Truth, the true Son of God, 
the Kedeemer who assumed flesh that He might 
die in the flesh for us, then we must believe Him 
when He tells us that to inherit eternal life we must 
eat of this bread which is His flesh. To abide in 
Him and Him in us we eat His flesh and drink His 
blood ; and,” continued the Elder, “ I believe His 
words, and because I believe them I can no longer 
make a mockery of them by partaking of symbols. 
There must be somewhere among God’s people a 
solution of my difl&culty. The truth cannot perish. 
I know nothing beyond Congregational opinions ; 
and they do not hold it. I do not know where, or 
how, to seek this life-giving bread. My ship is 
• tossed on waters of stormy doubts and fears, and 
in the darkness and uncertainty of my soul I see 
Him afar off; He is yet but a spirit to me and I 
tremble, for I know not who holds the divine and 
life-giving legacy He has bequeathed me, the great 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


153 


and awful trust, the miraculous feast of the body 
and blood of Jesus Christ which to inherit eternal 
hfe I must eat. This, my w^ife and children, is what 
has troubled my spiritual hfe for some years past. 

I have sought to stifle it as a temptation and false 
doctrine, but it has pursued me until my thoughts 
are so full of it that I could as easily doubt my very 
existence as the belief that it is necessary to my 
salvation to eat of this heavenly bread.” 

Oh, husband ! your delusion passes all behef. 

It is a temptation ; never doubt that. There, there 
— read that 1” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming standing 
beside him, and pointing to a verse which she read 
in a triumphant voice : ‘ It is the spirit that 

quickeneth : the flesh profiteth nothing. The words 
I have spoken to you are the spirit and the life.’ ” 
“Yes, mother; dead flesh separated from the 
spirit, in the gross manner they supposed they were 
to eat His flesh, would indeed ‘proflt nothing. 
That is what He meant. . In proposing the feast of 
His body and blood, don’t you see that it bestows 
spirit, grace, and life, inasmuch as in partaking of 
it He abides in us and we in Him, marking us for 
His own, worthy by it of inheriting eternal hfe ? ' 
Paul says that whosoever shall eat of this bread 
and drink of this cup unworthily shall be guilty of 
the body and blood of the Lord, and ‘ he that eateth 
and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh iudg- 


154 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ment to himself, not discerning the body of the 
Lord.’^*” 

Wolfert Flemming ! yon are wresting the word 
of God to your own ruin ! I fear that you are pos- 
sessed of a devil, if you are not crazy,” exclaimed 
Mrs. Flemming, laying her hand on his broad 
forehead and looking into his calm gray eyes, 
which regarded her troubled countenance with a 
look of ineffable love and pity. “ Oh, what delu- 
sions to come to such a soul ! Husband, send for 
Father Eay.” 

‘‘ Father Bay cannot help me, mother. He has 
tried, and gave me no comfort or light. Only God 
Himself can aid me. I look for Him to stretch 
His hand out of the darkness to lead me, for He 
knows how earnestly I seek Him ; and though He 
slay me, yet will I trust Him. I can be a hypocrite 
no longer. The scriptures themselves have led me 
into deep waters ; perhaps I may sink, but I hope 
not. I hope not. Like Tobias, I know not the 
way, nor whence to find a faithful guide; but I 
‘ believe’ for all that, and I know that God will not 
suffer me to perish through ignorance. But I must 
^ break off from the old lines, they are too narrow 
for the needs of my soul.” 

But, father, consider !” cried Mrs. Flemming, 
her voice tremulous with excitement and distress. 

I. Corintliians, xi. 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


155 


“ Consider how you are looked up to by old and 
young as one strong in the faith, and what a hurt 
it will be to souls to see you falling away from 
pure and simple Gospel doctrines, to run after 
visionary ideas. Consider, too, the discredit it will 
be to you, you who come of such old true-blooded 
Puritan stock ; think of the hurt it will be to your 
business, and the disgrace it will bring upon your 
family — Oh, dear me ! I never heard of such a 
dreadful thing in my life. And the girls — ^I’m sure 
their prospects will be ruined if you go off and 
backslide in this way.” 

“ Little wife,” said the elder, kindly and gravely, 
I must not labor for the meat that perisheth, but 
for the bread of eternal life. I will abide in the 
promise of Him who commands me to believe in 
Him. I am groping for the truth, which must be 
somewhere on God’s earth ; and if I find it by His 
grace, I shall be ready not only to suffer, but re- 
joice, if need be to die for it.” 

“ Oh, dear me !” bewailed Mrs. Plemming, “ what 
will that righteous man. Father Pay, say ? What 
will the Deacon do ? What will John Wilde think? 
[ never Uad such a shock in my life. Why, Elder 
Flemming !” she cried, growing irate : “ You must 
■AUTdlj be bewitched.” 

No, mother, I am not bewitched. Don’t dis- 
tress yourself so — it pains me,” he said quietly. 


156 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


I’m glad it does ; it’s a good sign, Elder Flem- 
ming, to liave something pain yonr conscience; 
it shows that you are not quite ‘ given over.’ I’ve 
felt something coming for weeks and weeks. I didn’t 
know what, but it made a cold spot on my heart 
all the time, that wouldn’t let me forget even for a 
minute that it was there. Ever since that idola- 
trous Irish papist was here, I have felt so. I wish 
it had been in the good old times for him, with his 
crosses and superstitions.” Which meant that 
Patrick McCue would not have got off with flying 
colors, but would probably have got a “ rise in the 
world,” as they say out in Nebraska when a man is 
hung. “ Only see, now, how God has punished us 
for sheltering an idolater.” 

“ Mother, do you remember the words : ‘ I was a 
stranger and ye took Me in. I was hungry and ye 
fed Me,’ ” said the Elder. 

“ No, I don’t forget them ; but there were no 
wandering Irish papists going about in those days, 
destroying the peace of Christian families.” Then 
Mrs. Flemming, out of breath, and haK beside 
herself with grief and anger, went back to her 
chair and tried to resume her work. 

Hope and Eva had not spoken ; the whole scene 
surprised and distressed them ; they were not pre- 
pared for any such thing, and the sudden break- 
ing down of accustomed lines, or the uprooting of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


157 


lifetime traditions, is dlwajs painful ; but on the 
whole they sympathized and almost believed with 
their — father, it all seemed so straightforward and 
indisputable ; but Eeuben for once forgot his book, 
and regarded with something akin to a speechless 
terror what appeared to him very like a gTeat 
moral earthquake of apostacy. Elder Flemming 
got up, and walked up and down the room ; his 
soft, firm footfall, and the creaking of a plank here 
and there of the old floor as he stepped upon it, 
and the sparkling of the fire caused by the falling 
apart of a great blazing log, were the only sounds, 
except the low shrill whistle of the wind around 
the northwest angle of the house, that were heard. 
They were all full of busy thought, and it seemed to 
them that a curtain had been suddenly rent away 
before them, revealing a chaos into which they were 
being driven. At last the Elder paused in his mo- 
notonous march, and taking his accustomed seat, 
said: “We will have family worship ; ’’then he turned 
over the leaves of the old Bible, and in his calm even 
voice, full of the spirit of the Psalm* he read, fell 
soothingly upon the mortal unrest around him; 
after which, from the fulness of his own soul, upon 
his bended knees, he poured out his cry for help. 
Afterwards Hope and Eva bade him and their 
mother a tender good night and went away. Mrs. 

* Psalm Ixvi. “ Deus misereatnr.” 


158 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Flemming lit Eeuben’s candle, and sent him off to 
bed with a charge “ not to read in bed,” then she 
took up her own candlestick, and went round in- 
specting the fastenings of doors and windows, and 
looked to see if the old heaufet, with its sparkling 
treasures, was safely locked ; and finding that the 
Elder did not move she fidgeted around, jinghng 
her key-basket a litte while longer, and then said : 
“ Rake up the fire carefully if you are not coming, 
but don’t stay up too late, father; you need sleep.” 

But he did not feel like sleeping, and after she 
went away he took the light and went to his 
“ work-room ” and sat down to think, but his mind 
was so tempest-tost that he could not bring his 
thoughts to anything like order, and he determined 
to go to work on the accounts of “ Sneathen and 
Flemming ” and prepare the new terms of partner- 
ship, the old one expiring ten days hence ; he 
would go over it all, and see what he could do -to 
find out what virtue there was in algebra for a 
troubled mind. So thinking, he went to his desk, 
and in turning over and assorting his accounts he 
picked up Patrick McCue’s keepsake, which he 
had entirely forgotten, and in a vague absent- 
minded way he opened it, and his eye lit upon 
these words : “ First, supposing it possible that 

Jesus Christ had deceived the Jews at Caphar- 
naum, and even His disciples, and His very apos- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


159 


ties, in the solemn asseverations which He, six 
times over, repeated His real and corporal pre- 
sence in the sacrament when He promised to insti- 
tute it ; can any one belive that He would continue 
the deception on His dear apostles in the very act 
of instituting it ? and when He was on. the point of 
leaving them ? in short, when He was bequeathing 
to them the legacy of His love?^* . . . The 
strong man’s soul trembled as he read ! What was 
this, and whence, so aptly fitting his needs ? Could 
it be that help was at hand, and from such a 
source? Was it this book, which weeks ago he 
had thrown aside with contempt as defiled with 
false doctrine, which was to enlighten him ? He 
did not stop to parley with the past, but read on, 
and on, until he came to the end of the subject, 
then he turned hungrily to the first page of the 
book and began anew ; he must see it all, and find 
if other questions of his soul could be answered 
by it ; and forgetting time and rest, he stood at his 
desk leaning upon his elbows, devouring its con- 
tents, so full and satisfying to his mind, until 
with a sudden upfiirting of light, the candle, burnt 
down to the socket, gave one flash of light and ex- 
pired, leaving him in darkness. Exterior darkness 
only, for the lamp of his soul was alight, its 
shadows were fleeing before the divine illumina- 

* “ MUlner’s End of Controversy,” page 229. 


160 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tion ; lie liad found a guide at last wlio led him 
with a strong, strange power into the ways of truth, 
and his very blood pulsed with a new and perfectjoy. 
But he could not stop. He must learn more ; so 
he kindled his fire and Ht the swinging lamp over 
his work-bench, and drawing his great leather- 
backed chair to it, he sat down and resumed the 
book. 

Mrs. Flemming had passed a restless, feverish 
night. Now and then she dozed from utter weari- 
ness, wondering what was the matter with her, re- 
membered, and put out her hand to her husband’s 
pillow, to see if he had come to bed ; but finding it 
empty, turned away with a sigh half of anger half 
of alarm at his absence ; and tried to sleep, but 
when hour after hour passed on, and the sky showed 
streaks of light through the clear window pane, she ^ 
sprang up terrified, and hurrying on her clothes, 
trembling in every limb, ran down to the old sitting- 
room where she had left him- — her heart stirred with 
tne first anger she had ever felt towards him — but 
he was not there. Full of wild apprehensions and 
scarcely able to walk, she was so agitated with she 
knew not what, she dragged herself along until she 
came to the ‘‘ work-room,” and with a sick fear at 
her heart of not finding him there, she softly opened 
the door — and there, his head leaning back on his 
chair, he was sound asleep, with a look of such 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


161 


peace and joy and a smile of sucli perfect restful- 
ness on his countenance that Mrs. Flemming stop- 
ped half way, wondering if it could be the red and 
golden light from the morning sun that brightened 
up her husband’s grand massive face with such 
strange soft brightness. He stirred at the moment ; 
and the book falling from his hand to the floor, 
awoke him.* 


CHAPTEE XII. 

THE NEW DAY. 

Mrs. Flemming felt thankful, so thankful that she 
could have ran and thrown her arms about her hus- 
band and told him how ghid she was, after all her 
imaginary terrors to find him there safe and un- 
harmed ; but then she got a little angry at having 
been made so uneasy without rhyme or reason, and 
thought if in addition to his new opinions — ^which 

* This narrative was commenced two years ago. Elder Elem- 
ming’s conversion, from reading “ Milner’s End of Controversy,” 
occurred more than forty years ago ; and another individual, of 
whom we knew, had her doubts entirely silenced by a copy of 
the same work which she got from an ignorant Irish woman, 
who kept a little Catholic library in Baltimore, twenty-five years 
ago. The writer makes this explanation, lef^t some might think 
we are making use of “Gropings after the Truth,” by Dr. Hunt- 
ington. 


162 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


threatened trouble enough — he was going to adopt 
new habits, and upset their regular godly way of 
living, she would try to nip it in the bud, so she 
said with some asperity of tone : 

‘‘ This is a way for a Christian man to spend the 
night, sleeping in a chair in a cold room without 
even your old cloak to cover you ! I couldn’t sleep 
even in my bed, for wondering what had become 
of you ; but that is a small matter.” 

Why, mother, I believe I have spent the night 
here !” said the Elder, a little bewildered at first. 
‘‘ And I have been asleep too. What a night you 
must have had; forgive me; I did not expect to 
spend the night here. I came here to think aAvhile, 
then I began to overhaul my accounts, and found 
this book in my desk, which I opened, and got so 
interested in it that I forgot how the time was pass- 
ing. I really don’t know when I fell asleep.” Then 
he got up and stretched his great limbs, and looked 
out at the glorious sky fiushed with crimson and 
veiled with transparent fleeces of cloud, with here 
and there a dash of gold gleaming through, and 
streaks of blue, like great veins pulsing with light, 
showing dark and beautiful between the splendors 
that tinted every salient point of cloud with edges 
that shone like the jewelled diadems of kings. He 
di’ew a long, full breath, an inspiration of deep 
happiness; it was in his heart to cry out with 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


163 


David: “The heavens declare the glory of the 
Lord ” — so typical was the new-born day of the 
light that had risen npon his darkness ; but he re- 
pressed his emotions — his wife standing there, look- 
ing so coldly and reproachfully at him, would not 
understand him ; so he only said : “The new day 
is very beautiful, mother. I never saw so fair a 
morning.” 

• Yes,” she said, shortly; “it’s a good day. I’m 
glad you found among your books one that could 
interest you so much. I hope the sound doctrine 
of it will bring things right. Better put out that 
' sputtering lamp overhead. You’ll find your clean 
things on the chair— I suppose you haven’t forgot 
it’s the day to change — when you feel like going to 
your room to slick up for the day.” 

“ Thank you, Httle wife,” he said as she turned 
away with an injured air and left the room. “ Clothe 
my soul, O Lord, in fresh garments this daj’,” he 
whispered as the door closed. A great peace filled 
the man’s soul, through the medium of which all 
things looked more fair; he felt as if a film had 
fallen from his eyes, as if a new day had indeed 
risen upon his life ; as if — having been so long 
buffetted and tossed by contrary winds of doctrine — 
he had suddenly found safe port for his soul ; for 
as he had turned page after page of that book so 
providentially thrown into his hands just in his 


164 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


greatest need, and found question after question 
answered, doubt after doubt removed, and every 
contradiction that had troubled and tormented him 
solved and harmonized ; he indeed forgot how the 
night was passing ; he only knew that he had dis- 
covered that there was truly and verily a divine 
Faith upon earth, established by Jesus Christ, its 
great Founder, and perpetuated through all time 
by His power. His natural reason had long a^o 
assured him that God cannot be the author of dif- 
ferent religions ; for, being the Eternal Truth, He 
cannot reveal contradictory doctrines; and being 
at the same time the Eternal Wisdom and the God 
of Peace, He cannot establish a kingdom divided 
against itself.* The result of this reasoning was, 
that consequently to be worthy of its divine origin 
the Church of Christ must be itself One: one in 
doctrine, one in worship, and one in government. 
This mark of unity in the true Church, so clear 
from natural reason, was made still more clear to 
his mind from certain passages, which over and over 
again had arrested his attention as fraught with 
deep and connected meaning, while perusing the 
pages of his old Lutheran Bible ; as, for instance, 
when the Saviour, speaking of Himself in the char- 
acter of the good Shepherd, says : “ I have other 
sheep (the Gentiles), which are not of this fold : 


* Milner. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


165 


them also must I bring, and they shall hear My 
voice and there shall be One Fold and One Shep- 
herd.* To the same effect addressing His heavenly 
Father, He says : I pray for all that shall beheve 
in Me, that they may be One, as thou Father art in 
Me, and I in Thee.”t In like manner St. Paul, in- 
culcating the unity of the Church, writes : We being 
many, are One Body in Cheist, and every one mem- 
bers one of another.^ Again, he declares : There 
is one Body, and one Spirit ; as you are called in 
one hope of your calling : One Lord, One Faith, 
One Baptism.il 

The settled convictions of Woffret Flemming’s 
mind, from a study of the Bible alone, had long 
ago tended to the firm belief that Christ founded a 
visible Church upon earth, and in this Church there 
must necessarily be a unity of faith, doctrine, and 
government ; but he was without chart or guide ; 
his aspirations were earnest, but he had no clue and 
was entirely hedged about by narrow sectarianism 
and all the human inventions called religions, that 
he was perfectly ignorant ivliere and what this 
Church, wFich was so full of all that could satisfy 
the immortal cravings of his soul for truth and con- 
solation, was to be found, until this night, when it 
was revealed to him as we have described. Oh, 

* John X, 16. .,ct John xvii, 20, 21. J Kom. xii, 5. |1 Ephesians 

iv, 4, 5. 


166 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


God! liowliis soul expanded ; how greedily it drank 
in the knowledge of the Truth ; how gladly his eyes 
brightened in the light risen out of darkness ; how 
his weary heart rejoiced to behold a straight and 
narrow way beyond the tangled wilderness! He 
had been drifting alone upon midnight seas, with- 
out helm or compass, when lo ! the morning dawned, 
and he found himself near the boundaries of the 
glorious land he sought ! Oh, what peace it was 
to know with a -certainty, which it did not once 
enter his mind to doubt, that there was indeed a 
Divine Faith upon earth ; a Church — holy, apostolic, 
and universal ; a sheepfold having One Shepherd ; a 
Creed acknowledging and confessing one Lord, one 
Faith, one Baptism ; a Body of which Christ is the 
head ; a great, holy, divine truth, containing and 
covering all truth ; a Church endowed with all the 
Godhke powers which had been exercised by its 
Divine Founder upon earth ; upon whose altars He 
abides through all time, offering Himself from the 
rising of the sun unto the going down of the same, 
a perpetual sacrifice to the Father the food and 
the guest of His children; the ‘‘bread of life” 
which is a guerdon of everlasting salvation to all 
who eat worthily of it ! 

It was all plain to the man’s clear and logical • 
mind, and as he finished the book he exclaimed : 
“ If this is being a Eoman Cathohc, then, my God, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


167 


I am one— heart and sonl. There is nothing left 
for me but this, or infidelity. If the Catholic reli- 
gion be not the true one, then all rehgion is a lie. 
But it is true. I feel it in the depths of my soul, 
stirring it to new life ; my reason responds to it ; 
my heart thrills responsive to it. My mind sub- 
mits to it with gladness and freedom. It is clear 
and indubitable. I am a Catholic. I believe all, 
because I believe in Jesus Christ. I accept all. 

0 God ! Thou hast enlightened me while I dwelt 
in the shadow of death ; Thou has led me thus far ; 

1 see the way, I believe, but yet I am afar off from 
actual communion with the One Fold ; lead me still 
nearer, until I and my household enter in.” Have 
you not sometime read of certain philosophers who, 
observant of effects, spend a lifetime of patient in- 
vestigation, and tireless study, and ruinous experi- 
ment, to ascertain their natural cause, and finally 
when almost worn out by disappointment, poverty, 
sleepless nights, and the stolid indifference of the 
world to the great principles of science, have sud- 
denly and in the most unexpected manner solved 
the mysterious problem, and understood at once, 
as by inspiration, how it was to be applied to the 
grand march of the world’s progress ; you have 
read of their exceeding and exultant joy, of the 
sense of triumph and delight which almost killed 
or crazed them ? But this was nothing, aye, less 


168 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


than nought, to the profound peace and content 
which flowed in and pervaded the whole being of 
the man who sat there in his little Avorkshop read- 
ing through the long dark hours of night, flnding, 
as he read, the solution of his soul’s great problem. 
Just before the day dawned he turned over the last 
page of the book; but, not satisfied, he again 
opened it, and was reading and re-reading certain 
portions, when — throwing back his head to think 
of the dragon’s teeth that Luther had sown, and 
the sharp conflicts he had with the heresies born 
of his own apostacy — he fell asleep. 

When Elder Flemming came into the quaint old 
family room, brightened by the cheerful noisy fire 
and glorified by the splendor of sunshine streaming- 
through the windows, he found his slippers and 
dressing-gown by the fire, just where his wife had 
been in the habit of placing them for the last thirty 
years ; there was his table, with the old Bible open 
upon it ; there stood his chair waiting for him ; the 
breakfast table in its spotless linen and neat 
polished china suggested thoughts of the dear faces 
soon to gather around it ; there was nothing 
changed except himself, and he felt at that moment 
a certain assurance that this change would involve 
such sacrifices as would perhaps turn all this 
domestic peace into gloom, and disperse forever 
the earthly happiness of his household. He could 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


169 


not tell. The crucifixion came after the palms and 
hosannas. But he was prepared for every crucial 
test, seeing that the kingdom of God is not of this 
world, and he that enters in must be prepared for 
sacrifice and confiict. It is only when a soul enters 
into the true Church that real sacrifice is made. 
To go from one denomination or from one commu- 
nion to another scarcely excites remark, and cer- 
tainly involves no radical change of opinion, no 
revolution in faith ; it is looked upon by Protestants 
as a simple exercise of freedom of conscience ; but 
when a man comes out from among them to be- 
come a Catholic, the act has a deep significance ; 
it means persecution, warfare, and sacrifice; his 
whole being, intellectual and spiritual, sloughs off 
its old life, its old association of ideas, its errors 
and all arrogance of will, and submits with simple 
submission to the divinely established authority of 
the Church. Neither fame, worldly considerations, 
family ties, riches, honors, or human respect in any 
form can compromise the integrity of this faith : if 
they stand in the way they must be sacrificed ; or 
he must, like the young man spoken of in the Gos- 
pel, turn back and go sorrowful away. To become 
a Catholic a man must be prepared to sacrifice not 
only material goods, but also to hear himself called 
‘‘ visionary” — a “ seeker after novelties” — ‘‘ crazy” 
— ‘^a fiypocrite,” — and be giccused of every unworthy 


170 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


motive ; all of wliich goes to prove more conclu- 
sively that the kingdom of this world, with its 
human inventions of creeds and religions, is sepa- 
rate and distinct from the kingdom of Christ upon 
earth, which is the Catholic Church. 

But we have forgotten Wolfert Flemming stand- 
ing there in the cheerful glow and warmth of his 
fireside, full of peace and high earnest resolve, 
counting the costas nothing when compared with the 
certainty of eternal gain ; for this thing was for him 
a question of eternal import, before which aU earth- 
ly considerations faded into utter insignificance. 
Presently the girls came in with their pleasant 
smiles and good morning kiss, and, shortly after, 
Mrs. Flemming and Eeuben ; she in her high- 
backed, beaded chair — he close beside her, seated 
upon a lower one. Mrs. Flemming said nothing ; 
but her soul had been sorely exercised. “ Suppose,” 
she had asked herself at least twenty times, “ he 
should give up family prayer ? Perhaps he will. 
But I will go in, and seem to feel no difference. 
Come, Euby,” she had said aloud ; “ come, it is time 
for family worship. Don’t keep father waiting.” 
Her mind was soon placed at ease by seeing her hus- 
band go tqwards his table and seat himself as usual ; 
and everything seemed so natural that she wondered 
if she had been dreaming ; she almost imagined she 
had, and her heart melted within her as she listened 


THE FLEMMINGS. 171 

to the unction with which her husband read the 
sacred word, and prayed as if he were in the very 
presence of God. “ No doubt,” she thought, “ it 
was the book he read last night and she thanked 
God, without knowing for what, that he had sat up 
all night to read it, never doubting but that it was 
a doctrinal work of their own belief which had set 
all his doubts and difficulties at rest. She moved 
about briskly and cheerily, sure that her husband’s 
temptations had passed away : and it was pleasant 
to them all to see the little mother whom they all 
dearly loved and reverenced, standing with such 
a blithe happy smile upon her countenance at the 
head of the breakfast table, as they gathered around, 
waiting for their father to offer thanks ; when to 
their amazement he raised his right hand and signed 
himself with the sign of the cross in the name of 
the adorable Trinity, after which he asked the bles- 
sing. Mrs. Flemming started and turned very white 
It was the very thing that the Irish pedler had 
done at this very table. 

“ Father!” she said sharply, what do you mean 
by doing that ?” 

“ I mean, mother, that as the cross is the stand- 
ard of Christ, and the sign of our belief in Him, to 
use it in this way to help me at all times to bear 
in mind His death and passion,” replied the Elder, 
his grave, quiet tones unruffled and kind. 


172 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


But that is popery. It is like being a papist — ” 

“ I am a papist, my wife : in other words, I am a 
Homan Catholic.’’ 

“ Lord^ have mercy on me !” wailed Mrs. Flem- 
ming ; and she would have fallen from her chair if 
Hope had not sprung forward and caught her in 
her arms. She had fainted — the second time in 
her healthy, happy life. The first time was when 
the dying Indian squaw, Massasquoi, throttled her ; 
and now when something ten thousand times more 
terrible to her had come upon her, risen as it were 
out of her very hearth to strike her down. Her 
husband was not a backslider, as she dreaded ; he 
was a papist, her dread and abhorrence, the anti- 
thesis of all that was good and pure, religiously 
and- morally. The Elder lifted the limp little form 
very tenderly in his strong arms and laid her upon 
the sofa, chafing her hands, while Hope opened a 
window and Eva ran to get hartshorn. It was a 
long faint, but presently she revived and was be- 
wildered for a little while, then she fixed her eyes 
on her husband’s face with a look full of pity, en- 
treaty and reproach, and burst into sobs and tears. 
It was something new in this peaceful household, 
such a scene as this ; nothing like it had ever hap- 
pened among them before, and it almost frightened 
them to see their mother, always so full of strong, 
cheerful life, so unselfish in her ceaseless efforts for 


THE FLEMMINGS. 173 

their comfort and happiness, stricken down in such 
a way. 

“ Mother,” said Flemming, smoothing her cheek 
tenderly with his broad hand, “ don’t get fretted 
and miserable until we have a little reasonable talk 
together over this matter. When you come to 
know what good cause I have to change, you will 
no longer blame me or be unhappy about it.” 

“ I would rather have seen you dead ! I would 
rather have seen you dead !” she cried. 

“ Mother, we won’t talk over this now,” he said 
gently, for he knew how deeply she was struck. 
“ Come and get a cup of hot coffee, and don’t get 
miserable over a thing that fills me with unspeak- 
able joy. At least be patient, and understand dis- 
tinctly that I am pre]3ared to sacrifice everything 
on the face of the earth — yea, life itself — rather 
than go back a hair’s breadth from the saving faith 
I have found.” 

There was nothing to be said after this ; Mrs. 
Flemming knew her husband too well to argue 
with him when he asserted himself in this master- 
ful, positive way ; and, not fond of scenes, she 
gathered up her energies and returned to the 
breakfast table. There was but little talk, every 
one being full of his own thoughts ; the Elder fin- 
ished his breakfast, again signed himself reverently 
with the sign of the Cross, gave thanks, and left 


174 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


the room to go about his daily tasks on the farm, 
and Mrs. Flemming and the girls to theirs in the 
household. They were all very quiet: a sort of 
awe filled the hearts of Wohort Flemming’s daugh- 
ters, as of an unseen presence; but, swift-footed 
and practical, they did not stop to brood over it 
all : there was not an idle bone in their bodies, and 
it was one of the principles of their life to put 
duty before all ; so their domestic affairs received 
the same scrupulous attention, and everything was 
arranged in its accustomed order. The only differ- 
ence was the silence. There was no cheery con- 
versation, no blithe snatches of song, no loving ht- 
tle romp with each other, fiitting here and there 
like sunbeams through the house. Their father a 
Cathohc ! It was incomprehensible to their minds. 
They could not have been more amazed if they 
had seen the topmost peak of Chocorua spread out 
a pair of black, spined wings, and fly out of sight. 
How did it happen ? And “ how did it happen ?” 
they asked each other again, when seated together 
over their sewing. ♦ 

“It was the pedler,” said Mrs. Flemming. “I 
knew and felt all along that something dreadful 
would follow having him here. He contaminated 
a Christian household with his rank idolatries, and 
now see what had come of it.” 

“ Father is not a man to plunge recklessly into 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


175 


absurdities,” said Hope ; even if he should, he is 
not the one to stand by them just for ‘the sake of 
making a point.” 

I used to think so,” sighed Mrs. Flemming. 

‘‘ If father has changed his religion, depend upon 
it he has good reasons for doing so,” said Eva : 
“ and I hope that he will explain it all to us, for it 
must be a better way than we know of or he never 
would have taken such a step.” 

“ Hush, Eva, this moment. How can you, who 
have never been converted or baptized, know of 
such things,” said Mrs. Flemming. 

“ No, it is true, mother, I don’t know much about 
religion ; I only know that father is a good and just 
man, who has served God without guile ever since 
I can remember ; and my highest aspiration, 
whenever I have thought of being rehgious, was to 
be like him,” replied Eva. 

If all that he said last night be part of the 
change, I believe with him so far,” said Hope. 

“ And I,” quietly added Eva. I don’t see how 
we can doubt a word of that, seeing that Christ 
Himself said it all. I believe it as He said and 
meant it. 

“How many pounds of butter did you chum, 
Eva ?” inquired Mrs. Flemming. 

“ Ten, mother,” she answered looking up quickly 
at her mother’s flushed, unquiet countenance, for 


176 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


tlie sudden and irrelevant question had almost 
taken her breath away. 

“ Did you give the buttermilk to the pigs ?” 

‘‘ Yes. Did you wish me to do so, mother ?” 

“Of course.” Then they fell to talking about 
other domestic matters ; and at dinner time the 
Elder, before and after meat, made the si gn of the 
Cross upon himself when he returned t /anks, and 
Mrs. Flemming was thoroughly miseral le. “ After 
all these years of peace, happiness, and family 
harmony, to be visited with such a trial !” And it 
is only those who know anything at aU of the pu- 
ritan sentiment forty years ago in Is aw England — 
not yet extinct — against the Catholic religion, who 
can understand the magnitude of Mrs. Flemming's 
^rial. To have declared one’s self an open disbe- 
iever, would not have been half as scandalous, or 
'oanned a man more completely than for him to 
Proclaim himself a Catholic in those days. It was 
lot in reality the Cathohc religion which these 
people, who served God earnestly according to 
their lights, were so bitterly prejudiced against; 
but a huge, idolatrous, devilish system, which their 
'‘ounders, teachers, and writers, represented to 
them as such, to suit their own purposes, taking 
good care that they should not be undeceived. The 
Catholic religion, as it is, was as sealed a book to 
them as the Sphinx. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


177 


CHAPTEE Xni. 

MES. FLEMMING AT BAY. 

Mrs. Flemming was really sincere in her belief in 
the doctrines she professed. There was just enough 
spirituality in them to hft them above the common, 
and they were just narrow enough to come within 
the score of human reason ; all above that being a 
dead letter, about which she gave herseK no con- 
cern whatever. “ Why should it ?” she thought ; 
‘‘ for that which had served the ends of salvation 
for her pilgrims forefathers was not only good 
enough, but the best for her.” Besides it was a 
comfortable religion, which gave one great liberty 
of action in the sharp commerce of life, provided 
all things were done in a decorous and sanctimonious 
way ; and was not too exacting in its demands for 
God : for while they claimed certain portions of the 
Bible for their rule of faith, and certain congrega- 
tional doctrines for their dogmas, a close observance 
of the Sabbath and its ordinances was their actual 
Shibboleth. This v/as a most convenient arrange- 
ment for all human purposes, as it left them six 
days to toil and prosper in, unfettered by any higher 
law than the law of the land ; and all that troubled 
their conscience growing out of their daily life was 
healed by the unction of this day of expiation. 


178 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Sucli as it was — and it was the best and only one 
she knew of — Mrs. Fleming clung to the meagre 
outlines of what she called her faith ; it was good 
enough for her, it had been good enough for the 
ancestral Flemmings and the ancestral Babsons, all 
of whom had been righteous men and women^ 
faithful to their calling, stern in their opposition to 
everything that even savored of Popery, and fore- 
handed with the world. She and her husband had 
been happy together all these years ; they had 
prospered, and held a high place, not only among 
their own brethren, but were looked up to by all 
with respect and something nearly akin to affection ; 
indeed, as the distressed little woman had said only 
a short time back, ‘‘ There was truly nothing left 
for them to wish for ; their ‘ basket and stove ’ was 
full and overflowing with blessings in every shape.” 
But now this dreadful thing had happened ; her 
husband was an apostate ; he had done worse than 
apostatize — he had turned Papist ; and she felt that 
they were all ruined and to be brought to disgrace 
and poverty. Then, leaving loom and everything 
else to take care of themselves, she shut herself up 
in her room, and prayed and wept as she had never 
prayed and wept before, that her husband might be 
saved alive out of the fiery temptation which 
threatened him, body and soul, with utter ruin. 

That night they were all in their usual places in 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


179 


the quaint fire-lighted old sitting-room ; there was 
an attempt at conversation ; and the girls, trying to 
be cheerful, talked now to their father, now to their 
mother, but seeing that it was no use, began rally- 
ing Beuben about a picture of Miss Debby Wyatt, 
which he had painted on an old biscuit board, much 
caricatured, but faithfully like her ; but Beuben was 
in one of the dreamiest of his dreamy moods ; he 
just shook back the golden mane that hung about 
his beautiful face, answered ‘‘ Yes,” and “ No,” then 
turned his eyes back to the visions he was behold- 
ing amidst the glowing coals, the Sinai where, veiled 
by smoke and flame, his fancy had many high 
revellings. At last Mrs. Hemming said : 

“I should think you’d be sleepy, father, after 
sitting up all night.” 

“ I expect I shall be pretty soon, mother. You 
know I am a great sleepy-head,” he answered 
pleasantly. 

What book was it that interested you so much 
as to keep your eyes open all night ?” 

“ It is called ‘ Milner’s End of Controversy.’ ” 

‘‘ I never heard of it before.” 

Nor I, until very lately. I should like, mother, 
to read portions of it to you if you will listen.” 

“ Yes, you can read what you like. There’s no 
book belonging to this house, thank God, that can’t 


180 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


be read to a Christian family. Is there anything 
about Luther and Komanism in it ?” 

“ Much, mother. But there is something I want 
to read, which is a sequel to what we were talking 
over last night.” Mrs. Flemming, still thinking it 
was one of the old volumes from their own book- 
shelves, full of pure doctrine, settled herself to listen 
while the Elder, sprang his mine — hoping almost 
against hope that she would hear something that 
would upset completely the destructive spiritual 
novelties he had adopted. 

“ In the sixth chapter of John, which I read last 
night, we saw how Jesus Christ instructed His 
apostles by His express and repeated declarations 
concerning the nature of the sacrament which He 
promised them, thereby preparing their minds for 
the sublime simplicity of His words in instituting 
it — words which sealed His meaning in the most 
solemn manner. ‘ For whilst they were at supper, 
Jesus took bread and blessed it, and broke it, and 
gave it to his disciples and said : Take ye and eat ; 
THIS IS My Body. And taking the cup. He said: 
Drink ye all of this ; foe this is My Blood of the 
New Testament, which shall be shed foe many 

UNTO THE EEMISSION OF SINS.’ 

‘‘Yes,” said Mrs. Flemming, “we always hear 
those words, and solemn words they are, when we 
*Mattliew, xxvi, 26, 27, 28. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


181 


go to tlie table of the Lord ; but they mean nothing 
except that we are to partake of the bread and wine 
in memory of His sufferings and death.” 

“He does not say that, or mean it,” replied the 
Elder in his calm, deep voice. “The apostle de- 
clares that when He took it into His hands it was 
h^ead^ but when He gave it to them He said : This 
IS My Body. He did not say it was bread, or tell 
them to eat it in commemoration of Him, or inti- 
mate that it was a symbol of His passion and death. 
He said, as He gave them that which had been bread: 
This is My Body. Then, taking the cup. He gave 
thanks and gave it to them, saying : ‘ Drink ye all 
of this, FOR THIS IS My Blood of the new testa- 
ment, which shall be shed for many unto the remis- 
sion of sins.’ How can we disbelieve this clear and 
exphcit declaration of the Son of God, without ac- 
cusing Him not only of prevarication but of impos- 
ture ? thereby bringing Him to naught. It was a 
solemn moment; it was a time fraught with the 
consummation of the ransom He was to pay for the 
salvation of the world, and He was giving into their 
hands for all time the legacy of His body and 
blood, which was to be unto all who partook worthily 
an assurance of everlasting life. Can we — believ- 
ing in Him as the Eternal Truth — ^imagine for one 
instant that on this solemn occasion, and under the 
stupendous circumstances. He. would have given 


182 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


them mere bread, and declared that it was His 
Body; and mere wine, declaring it to be His 
Blood?" 

‘‘ I couldn’t believe such a doctrine to save my 
life," said Mrs. Flemming excitedly, ‘‘ nor do I see 
how any enlightened person can." 

I can’t help believing it. It is all there in the 
Bible," said Hope. 

“ To disbelieve it, it seems to me, would be to 
lose all faith in our Saviour," said Eva. “ It seems 
unreasonable to doubt His own actual Avords, how- 
ever hard they may be to our understanding. And 
yet, father," she said, suddenly turning to him, ‘‘ is 
it harder to believe this than to believe that the 
Son of God assumed the flesh and nature of man 
for our salvation, as He did ?" 

No. Of the great mystery of His Incarnation 
there Avas no human Avitness ; all that we know Ave 
receive from the lips of the Virgin Mary His 
Mother ; but here in this great sacramental insti- 
tution Ave have His own words, repeated Avithout 
variation, adding to, or taking from, by each of the 
evangelists, who wrote — as a note here tells me — 
their gospels in different places and at different 
times. No Christian doubts the account given by 
Mary of the Incarnation, yet how many doubt the 
Avords of her Son, whom they profess to believe is 
the Eternal Truth ! Strange inconsistency of man !” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


183 


“ Did you say there was something about Luthei 
in that book?” asked Mrs. Flemming fidgeting. 
‘‘ This discussion is disagreeable, and I should like 
— ^if you don’t object — to hear something that I 
can understand.” 

“ Here is something, mother, about Luther, but 
I don’t know how you’ll rehsh it. ‘ Martin Luther,* 
in one of his epistles on the subject in question, 
says : ‘ I cannot tell you how desirous I was, and 
how much I have labored in my own mind to over- 
throw this doctrine of the Keal Presence, because,’ 
says he (and let us note his motive,) ‘ I clearly saw 
how much I should thereby injure Popery ; but I 
found myself caught, without any way of escaping : 
for the text of the gospel is top plain for this pur- 
pose.’ Hence he contined, till his death, to con- 
demn those Protestants who -denied the corporal 
presence, employing for this purpose sometimes the 
shafts of his coarse ridicule, and sometimes the 
thunder of his vehement declamation and an- 
athemas.’ ”t 

“We are not Lutherans,” said Mrs. Flemming 
sharply. 

“ No, not exactly ; but you know that Luther is 
the rallying cry of the Protestant world. They re- 
gard him as the apostle of the Reformation, the 

* Epist. ad Argenten., tom. 4, fol. 502, ed. Wittemburg. 

t Milner’s End of Controversy, p. 232. 


184 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


root of their tree, the founder of their sects. Lis- 
ten to this,'’ said the Elder, turning back the pages 
of the book : ‘ No sooner had Luther set up the 

tribunal of his private judgment on the sense of 
the Scriptures, in opposition to the authority of 
the Church, ancient and modern, than his disciples, 
proceeding on his principle, undertook to prove 
from plain texts of the Bible that his own doctrine 
was erroneous, and that the Eeformation itself 
wanted reforming. Carlostad,* Zuinglius,t (Eco- 
lompadius, Muncer,J and a hundred more of his 
followers wrote and preached against him and 
against each other, with the utmost virulence, still 
each of them professing to ground his doctrine and 
conduct on the written word of God alone. In 
vain did Luther claim a superiority over them ; in 
vain did he denounce* hell-fire against them, saying : 
‘ I can defend you against the Pope — but when the 

* Luther’s first disciple of distinction. He was Archdeacon 
of Wittemburg. Declared against Luther, 1521. 

t Zuinglius began the Eeformation in Switzerland some time 
after Luther began it in Germany, but taught such doctrine that 
the latter called him a pagan, and said he despaired of his sal- 
vation. 

X A disciple of Luther, and founder of the Anabaptists, who, 
in quality of the just, maintained that the property of the wicked 
belonged to them, quoting the second beatitude : “ Blessed are 
the meek for they shall possess the land.” Muncer wrote to 
several of the German princes to give up their lands to him, 
and at the head of forty thousand of his followers marched to 
enforce the demand. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


185 


de\dl shall urge against you (the heads of these 
changes) at your death, these passages of Scripture, 
and when Christ, your Judge, shall say, they ran 
ami I did not send them, how shall you withstand 
Him ? He will plunge you headlong into hell.’* 
In vain did he threaten to return back to the 
Catholic religion : ^ If you continue/ he says, ‘ in 
these measures of your common deliberations, I 
will recant whatever I have written or said, and 
leave you. Mind what I say.’t All in vain : for 
‘ he had put the Bible into each man’s hand to ex- 
plain it for himself.^ This his followers continued 
to do in open defiance of him, as we see in his curi- 
ous challenge to Carlostad to write a book against 
the Eeal Presence, when one wishes the other to 
break Ms neck, and the other retorts : ‘ May 1 see 
thee broken on the wheel ;’:j: till their mutual contra- 
dictions and discords become so numerous and 
scandalous as to overwhelm the thinking part of 
them with grief and confusion.’ ”§ 

“ That seems to be a curious sort of book. Elder 
Flemming, tell me where you got it ?” said Mrs. 
Flemming, with indignation too big for words. 

‘‘ This book,” he answered, speaking slowly, 
“ which has been ‘ as a lamp to my feet,’ as a guide 

* Oper., tom. vii, fol. 274. 
t Oper., tom. vii, fol. 276, ed. Wittemb. 

X Variat., b. ii, n. 12. 

§ Milner’s End of Controversy, p. 36. 


186 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


showing one the way, as one making the crooked 
paths straight, was left upon my desk by the Irish 
pedler, McCue, the morning he went away. I 
threw it into the desk, determined to send it back 
to him, little dreaming what a treasure it was, or 
that in it I should find comfort and enlightenment, 
until last night in turning over my papers I came 
across it and opened it. The very first words I 
read arrested my attention, and I sat up all night 
reading it ; and the result of this reading is that 
from that hour I am a Catholic — a Eoman Catholic.” 

Again Mrs. Flemming felt that tightening around 
her throat ; she could only gasp : I knew it. I 
knew that Irish Papist was at the bottom of it. 
Wolfert Flemming, I know that you are a hard- 
headed man, and that once you have made up your 
mind to a thing there’s no power on earth can 
change you ; I’ve no hope to do so, but I tell you 
you’ve broken my heart and ruined your family ; 
mark my words — you have.” 

‘‘ Neither, I hope, little wife. All I ask of you 
is to give this matter a cool, intelligent investiga- 
tion, earnestly praying the while to be enlightened.” 

“ Enlightened !” repeated Mrs. Flemming with 
sarcastic emphasis, 

‘‘ As it regards all else concerning earthly pros- 
perity and the like, I have counted the cost and 
made up my mind — made it up fully. It would be 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


187 


small profit to me to gain the whole world if I lose 
my own soul,” said Wolfert Flemming emphatically. 

“ But why need you lose your soul ?” she asked ; 
you have always been a good man, serving God.” 

“According to the light I had, mother, I tried to 
serve God ; but I have felt for years past that there 
was something wanting. I was not satisfied ; and 
now that I have discovered a true, soul-satisfying 
faith, one which every faculty of my mind responds 
to as divine and necessary for my salvation, I shall 
— nay, I do embrace it, counting all things nought 
for it. It is the way for me, and if I should try to 
climb up by any other I should be like a thief and 
a robber, and be cast down.” 

“ I, dear father,” said Eva, “ should be glad to 
know something of a religion which seems so vital 
and sublime that all things are counted but nothing 
for the sake of it. May I read that book ?” 

“And I too, father,” said Hope. “All that I 
have heard sounds hke truth.” 

“ To save time,” replied the Elder, while his eyes 
brightened with a tender hght as he looked at the 
two fair earnest faces of his daughters turned with 
confiding love towards him, “ I will read it aloud 
every night to you. Then we can talk it over as we 
read.” 

“That will be much better,” replied Hope. 


188 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ Although I don’t expect to become a CathoKc, I 
should like to hear what Catholics do really believe.” 

‘‘ I suppose,” said Mrs. Flemming, ‘‘ you won’t 
forget that you are to see Deacon Sneathen on 
Monday about that business.” 

‘‘No, indeed. I shall have everything ready, 
mother, and it will all be fixed by Monday night ; 
then, sometime during the week, I shall have to go 
up to the Pines. Reuben, did the Deacon say he’d 
come here, or am I to go there ?” 

“ He didn’t say, father,” answered Reuben. 
“ He only said he’d see you.” 

“ I haven’t seen John Wilde either, for a week ; 
where is he, Hope?” asked Mrs. Flemming. 

“He went to Boston, mother, to buy furniture 
and carpets, and won’t be back for a week or two,” 
answered Hope, blushing. 

“I should like to know what he'll think of all 
this !” said Mrs, Flemming to herself. “ Popery, 
of all things in the world, to come into this house- 
hold ! I do believe it will kill me.” 

Hope and Reuben went to meeting with their 
mother on the following Sabbath. Eva remained 
at home to read and converse with her father on 
the all-important subject which engrossed his 
thoughts, and which now also claimed her deepest 
attention. Mrs. Flemming carried a heavy heart 
with her into the old Congregational meeting- 



THE FLEMMINGS. 


189 


Louse that day. She already felt some of the grief 
arising from a “ divided house.” How could she 
face the congregation, knowing all that she did? 
knowing too that the most of them — her neighbors 
and friends — would miss her husband from his ac- 
customed place, and begin to wonder at his ab- 
sence, and ask her all sorts of questions before she 
got home — questions which she could not fully 
evade or set aside. She almost wished that the 
Indian woman had choked her to death, to have 
been spared this unspeakable trial. 

Father Hay missed the Elder' as soon as he 
arose in the pulpit and cast his eyes over the con- 
gregation. Deacon Sneathen glanced round, then 
up and do^vn, hoping to see his old friend some- 
where ; Miss Debby deliberately mounted her 
large tortoise-shell spectacles upon her nose, and 
took a long stare through them at his empty seat, 
then cocked her chin a degree higher than usual, 
and fixed her eyes with a supercilious expression 
on Mrs. Flemming. I am sorry to say that Eeu- 
ben, who noticed her impertinence, was very much 
tempted to make a face at her ; but he resolutely 
turned away so that he could not see her ; while 
Dope, who had also observed her offensive manner, 
fixed her calm, grey eyes for a moment steadfastly 
on her, then lifted them to the old minister who in 
tremulous tones was giving out the hymn. 


190 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Father Bay had a sermon prepared lor the day 
and occasion ; but when he discovered that Wolfert 
Flemming — whom h'e loved as David loved Jona- 
than — was again absent, his heart misgave him ; he 
felt sure that the man had at length yielded to the 
doubts which had so long beset him, and delivered 
in the place of it a startling discourse on the perils 
of backsliding and apostasy, which he wound up 
by describing with quaint eloquence the wretched 
plight of those disciples who after having been the 
friends and companions of Jesus, — who had list- 
ened to His words, and perhaps daily touched His 
hand and held sweet converse with Him, — turned 
away at last and left Him, because all that He 
said did not exactly suit their ideas and compre- 
hension, and walked with Him no more. “ They 
thought,’' said the old man, “ that he meant that 
He was going to give them His own body and 
blood to eat ; when, if they had been patient and 
staid where they were, if they had been more hum- 
ble and faithful, they would have found out their 
mistake, and understood that their Lord spoke in 
a figurative sense; but no! in the pride and con- 
ceit of their hearts they turned their backs upon 
Him, and it is only reasonable to suppose that they 
were given over to perdition ; for, brethren, we all 
know that the condition of a backslider is ten 
thousand times worse than his first state of sin.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


191 


The old man’s utterances were full of blended ire 
and pathos, and Mrs. Flemming felt every word 
hke a blow as she sat there listening to her hus- 
band’s condemnation; with all a woman’s keen 
sensitive perceptions she understood the whole 
drift of his meaning. But,- when the time came, 
she went up with the rest to receive the bread and 
wine of what her sect call the Sacrament of the 
Lord’s Supper ; and when she took the bread, and 
heard the words This is My Body, a thrill, an awe, 
such as she had never felt before, passed swiftly 
like an electric shock through her heart ; and when 
the minister presented the cup, saying, “ Drink ye 
all of this, for this is my blood of the New Testa- 
ment wliich shall be shed for many unto the remis- 
sion of sins,” her impulse was to thrust it from her 
and run from the place — for suppose, after all, her 
husband was right? But then she remembered 
that it was really nothing but common bread and 
wine, simply set apart for this occasion ; all that 
was left over, after the rite, was being given to the 
sexton’s wife to make toast out of and season her 
puddings. Then, trying to think that it symbolized 
and commemorated the death of the Saviour, she 
drank a few drops, and the cup was passed on. 

After the congregation was dismissed, and they 
were all standing outside waiting for their chaises 
and wagonettes to be brought round, everybody 


192 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


came up with inquiries about the Elder. “ Was he 
ill ?” — “ Did he have to go to the Pines again ?” — 
‘‘Where was he?” — “Why was he not at meet- 
ing ?” — “ It was the fourth Sacrament day that he 
was absent ; what could it mean ?” 

Mrs. Flemming stood her ground bravely, saying 
as little as she could, consistent with the truth, yet 
enough to give them to understand some of the 
facts of the case. “ No ; Elder Flemming was not 
ill,” she said to one ; “ he is in excellent health.” 
“ He is not at the Pines,” she answered another ; 
“ he is at home.” “ He did not come to meeting,” 
she said to a third, “because he preferred staying 
at home ;” but to the last query, made by Deacon 
Sneathen, she replied stiJffly : “ He is not here, be- 
cause he has changed his opinion on some doctri- 
nal points which he thinks erroneous, and I guess 
he’ll break off altogether from the old lines.” Her 
voice quavered, and she had nearly broke down, 
but the brave, loving httle soul was determined 
that — no matter what slie might feel at liberty to say 
to her husband — they should all find themselves mis- 
taken if they expected her to stand still while they 
pulled him to pieces in her presence. So she acted 
on the defensive. Deacon Sneathen grew purple in 
the face, and was seized with vertigo, which sent 
him staggering against the horse-block ; Miss Debby 
cocked up her chin in the most aggressive manner, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


193 


and cleared her throat in such a tumultuous way 
that several persons ran towards her, thinking she 
was strangling ; meanwhile Mrs. Flemming and 
Hope stepped into the chaise, and Eeuben drove 
briskly off. Before they were out of sight, every 
man, woman, and child there knew that Elder Flem- 
ming was a backslider. If Mrs. Flemming had tolJ 
them that he had turned Papist, I am at a loss to 
imagine to what heights their excitement would have 
risen. 


CHAPTEE XIV. 

SACRIFICE. 

I WAS sitting one summer evening in a pavilion 
built upon a bluff overhanging the sea, watching 
the long lines of surf, as the strong swift billows ot 
the Atlantic swept shoreward over the bars, and 
listening with mingled awe and delight to their 
reverberating thunders as they burst in creamy 
whiteness upon the shingly beach, roaring and rav- 
ing with impotent fury at the failure of their as- 
sault on the dry land, as driven by the invisible 
and inexorable power which let them ‘‘ come so far 
and no farther,” they rushed backwards hke a 
routed army, their only spoils the scattered drift- 


194 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


wood and see-weed deposited along the shore by 
the last flood tide. As the tumultuous sounds 
subsided into low and more distant mutterings, 
there rose above me the wild sweet song of a 
, bird which vras brooding on its nest under some 
carved wood-work on the apex of the roof. It 
sang, or seemed to sing, in ecstasy of peace, gaz- 
ing out the while at the rose-tinted clouds, the 
turbulent ocean and the rocking ships; and the 
sounds fell upon my heart like balm; but pre- 
sently the booming and bursting of the surf below 
drowned the flute-like symphonies, and I feared 
that I should hear them no more ; but when the 
defeated billows were again dragged back moaning 
and sobbing, I distinguished through the din a 
faint sweet trih : then as they receded still farther, 
leaving a short interval of quiet, the wild won- 
drous music floated out again in rich fulness, and I 
knew that it had not been hushed, but that the 
bird had been singing on as heedless of the thun- 
ders of the sea as of the stillness of the land. 

The little bird singing there on the edge of the 
noisy turbulent ocean was like the peace that had 
made its abode in the soul of Wolfert Flemming. 
Disturbing elements clamored around him, and 
there were moments when his own nature beat like 
great waves against his soul, and his out-look in 
the future seemed so dim and stormy that al- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


195 


thoiigli tlie sweet singer, brooding in the depths of 
his soul, never ceased mnrmui;ing blissful hymns of 
peace, he could not hear them, but when the dis- 
cords of life and nature ceased, they thrilled 
through every avenue of his being, consoling him 
with the sublime consciousness that his faith was 
at last and indeed anchored on the eternal Eock of 
Ages. And in this deep peace, he learned to 
“ possess his soul in patience,” knowing that how- 
ever tempestuously the waves might beat against 
him, however angrily they might threaten him, 
they could come just so far and no farther; and 
his great trusting heart looked up, and was glad. 

After the trial which his wife’s distress of mind 
on account of his change of faith caused him — and 
it was not a light one — he thought that nothing 
could pain or disturb him to the same degree, but 
he was mistaken. Old Father Eay came down to 
see him, losing no time. He came on Monday 
morning, and with a countenance in which severity 
struggled with an expression of sorrow which he 
could not conceal, he entered the house, returning 
the welcome greeting he received by cold, curt 
salutations. 

“ I have come to see your father,” he said to 
Hope, ‘‘and I wish to see him alone.” 

“ I will go and fetch my father directly. He is 
out somewhere on the farm,” replied Hope, loldinp 


196 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


up her work. And she went out, leaving him alone 
with her mother. 

“And you, Martha Flemming, how is it with you 
in these times of faithlessness he asked in quaver- 
ing tones. 

“ There is no change in me. I am satisfied with 
pure gospel doctrine,” she answered stiffly ; then a 
flood of thoughts came surging through her mind, 
and with a low cry of anguish, she sobbed : “ Oh, 
Father Eay ! Father Bay ! it will kill me. My hus- 
band has turned papist !” 

The old man was startled and nearly frightened 
by such an unexpected outburst of emotion, and if 
she had said, “ My husband has turned infidel,” 
he could not have felt a more deathlike sickness at 
his heart ; but it was impossible to sit silent in the 
face of such a sorrow as this, and making an effort 
to collect his scattered wits, he began to utter some 
consolatory words, when Wolfert Flemming’s foot- 
steps sounded along the passage, and she hastily 
left the room before he entered it. 

No one was present at this interview. Mr. Flem- 
ming lea his guest away to his little work-room, 
and ihe'j snut ttiem selves in. There for three 
hours they talked together. Now and then the old 
minister’s voice arose in loud expostulatory tones ; 
then he pleaded and denounced alternately, and as 
he grew more excited its thin treble sounded like a 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


197 


shriek, and sometimes sunk into hoarse trembling 
whispers, for throughout the interview every mo- 
ment convinced him of the utter futility of arguing 
the case with this man who — grave, calm and 
assured — had scripture, reason, history, and, above 
all, faith, with which to rebut and crush out all 
that he could say ; this man whose sense of reli- 
gion was so pure, whose moral nature was so grand, 
whose conscience was so upright, and whose very 
earnestness impressed even him — angry as he^was 
— with the perfect sincerity of his belief in the 
strange and incomprehensible doctrines he had 
adopted ; doctrines which to his darkened and 
narrow mind were ‘‘ damnable idolatries.” Baffled 
and wounded — for as we have said elsewhere, old 
Father Bay loved Wolfert Flemming as a father 
loves his first born— and full of bitterness, he gave 
up the contest and left him ; remembering the doom 
of Ephriam, who was joined to his idols, he let 
him alone,” and shaking. the dust of his house from 
his feet he went out, refusing Flemming’s offered 
hand, and mounting his horse rode slowly away, 
feeling as if a gulf had suddenly opened and swal- 
lowed the last earthly happiness of his hfe, destroy- 
ing the one mortal tie that above all others he had 
held most dear for time and eternity. 

“ That’s what’s come of it all,” said Mrs. Flem- 
ming bitterly, as she and Eva and Hope stood at 


198 THE FLEMMINGS. 

tlie window looking after the old minister. She 
saw him refuse her husband’s hand, and almost 
imagined that the words she saw him uttering, but 
could not distinguish, were curses, for there was no 
blessing in the look he cast back to the house, no 
relenting in his hard pinched features, which they 
saw as he wheeled his horse around to ride home- 
wards. She watched her husband as he stood 
motionless and almost breathless on the spot where 
the old man had parted from him, then turned to 
come into the house, and she saw that his features 
were pale and set, that his lips were compressed, 
and that his eyes, over which his heavy brows hung 
lowering, had a steely gleam in them she had never 
seen there before : then she knew that he had had 
a fierce struggle in his inner life and that his 
powers of endurance had been taxed to their utmost. 
He poured out a flagon full of cool water which 
had just come from the spring, and drank it every 
drop ; then stood a few moments, his elbow lean- 
ing against the window frame, looking out through 
the budding vines, at the distant mountain ridges 
edged with sunshine and the deep calm blue of tlie 
heavens beyond ; and the passion waves subsided 
witiAu him., and he heard the sweet whispers of 
faith and peace. He did not refer to his stormy 
interview with Father Eay; indeed he did not 
speak at all, until, as he was leaving the room, he 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


199 


stopped for an instant beside Mrs. Flemming’s chair, 
and laying his hand tenderly upon her head, said : 
“ Mother, I am going down with the men to harrow 
in the oats ; if Deacon Sneathen comes, send for 
me.” 

« Very well,” she replied coldly, even while her 
heart was full of wifely pity for him, dashed with 
anger that she could not help. ‘‘ Deacon Sneathen, 
indeed 1” she added, as he left the room ; “ mark 
my words, gii’ls. Deacon Sneathen won’t come ; see 
if he does !” 

‘‘ I hope he will,” answered Hope. I don’t see 
why he shouldn’t. My father’s change of religion 
can’t affect the business in which they’ve been en- 
gaged in so many years. I think it will be a most 
unreasonable thing in the Deacon to break off his 
connection vith father, because — ” Hope hesitated 
a moment, and then added bravely, “ become a 
Catholic.” 

‘‘ Where is Eeuben !” asked Mrs. Flemming, 
sharply, to change the conversation, for every ref- 
erence to her husband’s change of faith was like a 
stab. Where can that boy be ?” 

I don’t know, mother,” replied Eva, I have not 
seen Euby since brealdast time. I hope he is not 
going to have a sick turn ; I thought he looked very 
white this morning.” 

So he did ; I noticed it too. Do go, Hope, and 


200 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


find out if any of them have seen him/’ said Mrs. 
Flemming anxiously, ‘‘ I can’t tell what makes Euby 
so ailing all the time.” Then Mrs. Flemming went 
up to the weaving room and sat down to think — not 
of Eeuben and his feeble, useless life, which gene- 
rally caused her much anxious concern — ^but of the 
heavy trial which had fallen upon her, which she 
' almost imagined to be a judgment from heaven to 
punish her for having been too proud of her hus- 
band, and for having loved him too entirely. 

But Eeuben could not be found ; no one had 
seen him since early in the morning, and each one 
of the family began to feel seriously uneasy about 
him. Dinner time came and passed, and still he 
did rot come. Mr. Flemming and his men came 
in at sunset, but there were no tidings of Eeuben ; 
and urged by his mother, who was half distracted 
by her anxious fears, they were making preparations 
to go in search of him, when he glided in like a 
ghost out of the twilight, and sunk down on the 
old oak settle by the fire, pale, speechless, and ex- 
hausted. They set to sponging his face with 
vinegar, rubbing his hands, and feeding him with 
elderberry wine, which revived him, then they be- 
gan to question him all togethc r in such a chorus 
of sounds and confusion of words, that he burst 
out laughing, although he was still too weak to 
answer them. 


THE Fi^EMMINGS. 


201 


“ You’re all riglit now, Euby,” said Eva, kissing 
Lis forehead. 

‘ Eiit where in the world have j’ou been, 
Eeuben ? Do tell ! To give me such a fright !” 
said Mrs. Flemming, sitting down and folding her 
hands on her lap while she looked at him, puzzled 
beyond expression by idiosyncrasies which made 
the boy's life a perpetual mystery to her. ‘‘You 
should not have done so !” 

“I didn’t intend to, mammy, indeed I didn’t,” he 
answered, disarming her anger at once by the ten- 
der, sweet appellative which he always used as a 
shield and defence, whenever he wanted to propi- 
tiate her, or when she was displeased with him. 
“ I went straggling around, digging and poking 
among the thorn bushes, and turning over big 
rocks searching for something I wanted, until I got 
so far from home that I thought I should never bo 
able to get back.” 

“ What in the land’s name were you hunting up, 
child ? I never did see the like of you in my life !” 
exclaimed Mrs. Flemming. 

“ Gold, I guess,” said Hope, laughing. 

“No,” said the boy, gravely, “I was searching 
for soft stone.” 

“ Now do tell ! Why !” exclaimed l^Irs. Flemming, 
quite exasperated at what she considered his ex- 
treme foolishness. “ I do think, Eeuben, of all 


202 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


your vagaries, this one beats. Soft stone ! But 
listen now to what I have to say. I will have no 
more such shiftless doings, and sinful waste of 
time. You can’t work ; you’re really not strong 
enough ; and you shall help me in the dairy, and 
learn how to spin. Indeed you shall. I will posi- 
tively put a stop to this aimless sort of a life. Soft 
stone, indeed !” 

“ But there is soft stone ; mother, I have read 
about it, and how to find it, and I shall keep on 
looking for it, too,” answered Beuben, a little crest- 
fallen, and a little doggedly. 

“ I guess you learnt that out of the book the Irish 
pedler gave you. It would be just like the rest. 
Soft stone ! When you find it, let me know ; may- 
be it will do to stuff the pillows with.” Reuben 
was silent. He knew that he might as well be, and 
he was very tired ; so he leaned back, closing his 
eyes, and seemed to doze, she watching him all the 
while. Then she lifted up his long tapering hand, 
as fair and white as a woman’s, and laying it across 
her own, sat looking thoughtfully at it, and like one 
speaking in her sleep, said : ‘‘ It is exactly hke the 
hand in the old portrait of my great grandmother. 
Lady Pendarvis then she smoothed it, and folded 
it against her heart with an indescribable yearnmg 
for this gifted, half helpless, and best beloved one 
of her children. Reuben was not asleep, and he 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


203 


raised himself up and put liis arms about lier, and 
leaning his head upon her shoulder, said : I’d like 
o find it, little mammy. I want it for something 
gieat.” 

‘‘ Have you eaten anything to-day, Euby ?” she 
asked, while she smoothed back the golden tangles 
from his face. “No! Get up, and let me hurry 
them with supper.” And forgetting her great sor- 
row for the time, the busy httle woman began to 
bustle around, and presently left the room. 

“ Did you hear what mother said about the old 
portrait ?” said Hope. “ This is the first time I ever 
heard the proud-looking old lady’s name. Mother 
never mentioned it, and I thought she was cnc 
the dead and gone Mrs. Babsons.” 

“ So did I. Lady Pendarvis ! That sounds quite 
grand I” said Eva, laughing. 

“ It is just like mother’s old ‘ Mayflower ’ pride 
never to have spoken of it; Maybe she thought it 
might make us vain or proud to know that we have 
noble English blood in our veins,” said Hope. 

“ All the blood of all the nobihty on earth could 
not make a nobler man than my father,” answered 
Eva. “ I’m prouder of him than of old Lady Pen- 
darvis, even if she were of the blood royal.” 

“ So am I,” said Hope. Then they fell to talking 
of the old portrait, and Hope remembered to havo 
heard her father tell some one, years before, that 


204 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tlie original had been a zealous prosecutor of the 
English Puritan, and had disinherited her only 
child for marrying one ; and that the picture had 
not been kept out of reverence for her memory, but 
because it was painted by Hans Holbein, and con- 
sidered to be a master piece of art, besides which 
the picture itself was remarkably beautiful. ‘‘ And ” 
— whispered Eva, looking towards Reuben, who was 
now really asleep— “ Ruby is the living image of her. 
Well ! mother has good reason for being a little 
spiteful. It seems a little hke retribution that 
Lady Pendarvis’ portrait should have been hanging 
against the walls of a Puritan house all these years. 
I wonder it has not walked out of its frame ; and 
her very name not known to her descendants.” 

Suppose now, Eva, just suppose that she was a 
Catholic?” suggested Hope. 

Why ! how strange it would be ! I should like 
to ask mother, but dare not. Poor httle mother, 
she is so troubled !” replied Eva. 

Deacon Sneathen did not come to see about the 
partnership. It was too late for him to come now, 
and Wolfret Elemming’s face wore an expression 
of anxiety and gravity ; he felt, somehow, that 
difficulties from unexpected quarters were beginning 
to gather around him. Mrs. Flemming tried to 
think that something had happened to prevent the 
Deacon’s keeping his engagement ; but she had her 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


205 


suspicions, and bitter ones they were ; liowever, she - 
made no "^amark ; and although the girls had a 
vague fc'-uiig of uneasiness on the subject, they did 
not refer to it in any \\>ay, but exerted themselves 
to be cheerful, efforts which their mother could not 
refrain from uniting in when she saw the loo*k of 
care on her husband’s countenance and knew what 
it boded. 

That night Wolfert Flemming began to read aloud 
“ Milner’s End of Controversy ” to his family. Hope 
and Eva, with their sewing, brought their chairs 
closer to him, and listened with the deepest interest. 
Mrs. Flemming hurried Reuben off to his room to 
bathe his feet and go to bed, he being feverish after 
his daji’s tramp, and she did not return until prayer - 
time. 


CHAPTER XV. 

LETTERS. 

It did not take long for such news to spread, 
and if Wolfert Flemming’s old friends and neigh- 
bors had heard that he had been transformed into 
a fiery dragon, they would not have been inoro 
wonderstruck and dismayed than they were when 
they learned that he had become a Papist. Papist 


206 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


is not a pleasant word, being a term of reproam 
always used by our separated brethren when they 
wish to be particularly and emphatically bitter 
against Catholics ; but it 'was a word they under- 
stood as meaning all that they had been educated 
to dread and despise in religion ; nor could they 
have comprehended the word Catholic, as applied 
to the spiritual hetenoir which they called Popery, 
to have saved their lives ; hence these good people 
thought that their Elder had given himself up 
body and soul to certain destruction. There had 
never been such an excitement in that quiet ro- 
mantic region since the old Indian scalping times, 
and the old Puritan witch-burning and ear-crop- 
ping days ! Some believed the report ; and* some 
grieved and astonished, refused to credit it. Some 
mean little souls, who had always secretly envied 
the man his good fame, which set him by tacit 
consent above them, were glad, and inwardly re- 
jo* ced ; others were sorry because they feared such 
an example would scandalize the weak and set 
them to running after novelties ; others deplored it, 
because they had sincerely loved and reverenced 
L:s strong, guileless character, and could not bear 
i j - idea of severing their intercourse with him, a 
thing which, under the circumstances, they would 
feel bound to do ; while to many the event afforded 
a new and highly spiced subject for gossip. But 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


207 


the limits of my narrative restrain me from de- 
scribing the excitement. All who knew anything 
at all about the sentiment of the New England of 
that day against the Catholic religion, can imagine 
it more vividly than ^^ny words could pai^t it. I 
must confine myself to the effect it had upon those 
wdio were immediately connected with the Flem- 
mings. 

Deacon Sneathen was one of the first to hear the 
tidings. He was at the old minister’s house when 
he got home that day from his stormy interview 
with Wolfert Flemming : had stopped on his w 
down to the Old Homestead, to keep his engage- 
ment about the partnership, to ask Father E-ay 
some confidential questions in relation to the erratic 
state <i nind the Elder seemed to be in about re- 
ligiouts matters, and heard more than he had 
counted on ; for the minister, still smarting under 
the hurt of all that had passed on that occasion, 
told him all about it in pretty strong language 
But the Deacon, never remarkably qui. k, got sc 
bewildered and confused hat he cou^d not follow 
him, or clearly comprehend what L was talking 
about ; until by dint of questioning hmi at every 
few words the facts of the case began to dawn upon 
his dull understanding, when the most fanatical 
wrath and enmity against his old Mend took pos- 
session of him. There’s a saying that ‘‘ it takes a 


208 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


surgical operation to get an idea in the head of 
certain people/’ and Deacon Sneathen was one of 
that unfortunate class, with this difference : when 
the idea did get into his head, it took full posses; 
sion of him, to the exclusion of every other, and be- 
came the motive power of his being. He under- 
stood it all now. His old friend and former partner 
in business, the man whose son his only daughter 
expected to marrj^, the man whom he had always 
looked up to, and likened in his own mind to 
one of the apostles, had gone and turned Papist ! 
Here was a pivot to turn on, and he forthwith be- 
gan to spin. The first thing he did, when there 
was nothing more to be said behveen Father Pay 
and himself on the subject, was to go home instead 
of keeping on down to the Flemmings’ ; his next 
was to go straight up into his room after he got 
there, and, after locking himself in, sit down to the 
heavy task of inditing and writing a letter. “Joe 
Gargery’s” efforts were nothing to his. He felt as 
if he w^ould burst, and couldn’t get a word right. 
He was confused by two personalities. Elder 
Flemming the Puritan, and Elder Flemming the 
Papist ! Elder Flemming the burning and shining 
light of their congregation, and Flemming given 
over to Antichrist ! Elder Flemming his friend 
and partner', and the Flemming that he intended to 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


209 


throw oyer at all risks ! The nearness of all their 
previous relations made the task more difficult ; and 
the more he thought it over, the worse he floun- 
dered. He spoilt nearly two dozen sheets of paper. 
He broke out in a cold perspiration, and felt as if 
bees were humming in his ears, and jerked about 
‘jQ his chair until the buttons of his suspenders flew 
Jf. Then he got up and opened a little. cupboard 
m the wall, took down a dusty-looking bottle, and 
poured out a tumbler full of clear, amber-colored, 
oily liquid, which he drank, with his eyes rolled up 
to the ceiling as if he were praying ; then hastilj^ 
restoring the things to their receptacle, he locked 
them up, put the key into his waistcoat pocket, 
washed his mouth, and with his courage renew^ed 
like an eagle’s,’' he sat down and wrote the fol- 
lowing : 

Elm Cottage, March 28th. 

W. Flemming : Sir, Sence I herd that you have forsook the 
true Gospil religin in which you wor bred and born, and hev 
jined the ranks of Antichrist, I dont feel willing to renoo the 
pardnership. If you will give up poppery and be A^hat you was 
before in the house of the Lord, I am willing to let the bisness 
goon as it wor, which you must let me know. But if not I will 
take into pardnership a Bosting man with a big capitol, that 
will put up Steam Sawmills at the Pines, and has a gift in prayer, 
for which latter the Lord will prosper the bisness. 

Your obedient servant to command, 

Shadeach Sneathen. 

This was the ridiculous missive Avhich was to 
carry consternation into the camp of the Flemmings, 
and its results were as effective as if it had been 


210 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


written in the most stately English, interladed with 
legal clauses in Latin. Broken glass and bits of 
rusty iron can do as mortal execution as minnie 
balls, if fired with true aim ; so the Deacon’s bad 
sample of orthography, etymology, syntax, and 
prosod}^ did not fall a hair-breadth short of his 
intentions when it reached its destination. But 1 
will not anticipate. When Deacon Sneathen at 
last finished his letter, without a single blot, or a 
word scratched out, he read it over and felt very 
proud of it, and would like to have read it out in 
meeting ; but as that was impracticable, and his 
vanity ’svas hungering and thirsting to display his 
epistolary talent to some one, he unlocked his door, 
and went down stairs into the kitchen where his 
sister and Huldah were making doughnuts, pies, 
and other comforting things for the stomach, and 
after telling them the news he unfolded the letter. 
Miss Debby, her arms covered with flour and her 
hands stuck up with soft dough which hung down 
from her fingers like fringe, dropped breathless in- 
to a chair, her chin in the air and her whole being 
thrilled with a delightful excitement, exclaiming : 

Du tell neow !” It was all that she could say. 
For once in her life she was bereft of volubility of 
speech. Huldah was standing with a spoonfull of 
stewed pumpkin in her hand, just ready to drop 
into the light shell of flaky paste she had prepared 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


211 


for it, when the news burst like a petard aRong 
the Penates of the hearth ; and so she stood motion- 
less with surprise^ and grief, the color mounting in 
crimson flushes to her face, and her handsome eyes 
flashing Are, while the Deacon read his letter. 

‘‘ You ought to be ashamed of yourself, father, to 
write such a letter as that to Elder Flemming!” 
she exclaimed, when with a flourish of his hand he 
finished reading it. 

Wal, neow !” he said, looking amazed, ‘‘ how 
dare you speak so to me ?” 

“ Because 1 am ashamed of you 1” she repeated, 
rapping the large spoon upon the table until the 
stewed pumpkin flew round in every direction. 
“ To go and write a letter like that, to such a man 
as Elder Flemming, and throw him over because 
he’s gone and done what he has a right to do if he 
wants to. Popery can’t be so bad a thing, if he’s 
taken it up ; and whatever it is, I think it must be 
better than your religion, which will let you go and 
do such a thing to a good man, and your old friend 
too.” 

“ ril box your ears, you sarcy jade,” responded 
the Deacon, quite purple in the face. 

‘‘No you won’t !” she answered, fearless of conse- 
quences, in her zeal for the friends so dearly loved 
and so unjustly injured. “ I’d like to know what 
the battle of Ijexington and Bunker Hill, and all the 


212 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


other battles that you all make such spread-eagles 
f)ver, training days and Independence Day, were 
tought for, if it wa’n’t for liberty of conscience, and 
to keep people from being hung and quartered, if 
they happen not to be Puritans ? What right Ixave 
3’ou got to meddle with Elder Flemming, even if ho 
was to turn Pagan or Jew, so long as he don’t 
cheat you, which you know he has never done ?” 

“ Huldy, hold your tongue. I’ll have no Papist 
in my business, nor in my family either; do you 
hear that?” he exclaimed, loosening his neckcloth. 

‘‘Yes, father, I hear you,” she replied, defiantly. 
“ I hear you ; but that does not change my opinion 
in the least. And if you don’t take -care, you loill 
have one in your family more than you count on.” 

“Huldy Sneathen !” said Miss Debby, holding up 
her dough-fringed hands, “ I wonder the bears don’t 
rush down from tlie mountings and devour you ! 
To talk so to your father, who is doing nothing but 
a righteous act.” 

“ If the bears ever eat me, aunty, it will be when 
they come after you and get scared at the looks of 
you. Bears don’t like skin and bone,” said HuldaL, 
with a saucy, angry laugh. 

“Wal, neow! I’d like to know!” gasped Miss 
Debby, white with rage. 

“Father,” said Huldah, laying down the spoon, 
and speaking more gently and gravely, “ don't send 


THE FLEMMINGS5. 


!213 


that letter to Elder Flemming. I am sorry I spoke 
saucily to you — if that will do any good ; but don’t 
send it.” 

‘‘ Don’t meddle with what don’t concern you, 
Huldy,” answered the Deacon, refolding the letter. 

It’s to go.” 

“ Huldy Sneathen, you’re a sassy piece of goods ; 
and I reckon if it wasn’t for Nick Flemming you 
wouldn’t be so dretfully cut up,” at last broke out 
Miss Debby. 

“ It will make no difference between me and Nick, 
whatever happens ; depend upon that. I’d marry 
Nick Flemming if he was the Pope himself,” she 
exclaimed, her handsome e3^es flashing with anger. 

And I tell 3"ou again, father, you ought to be 
ashamed of yourself to do such a thing as you are 
going to do.” Then she turned her back on them, 
her heart throbbing passionately and tears blinding 
her as she pretended to busy herself over her pies. 

Miss Debbj’ whispered something to the Deacon 
as he went towards the door, and he stopped to 
consider for a moment, then said : “ I say, Huld}", 
don’t be going down to Flemming’s any more. I 
won’t allow it.” 

The girl turned round and looked at her father, 
her face pale now, and a look in it as if she did not 
quite comprehend him. 

“ What aid you say, father ?” 


214 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


'‘I say you are not to go to Flemming’s any 
more,” lie repeated. 

‘‘ Father !” she replied, looking straight into his 
eyes, while her thin nostrils expanded, and the color 
came back in hues of brightest carnation to her 
cheeks and lips. “ Your command is both unrea- 
sonable and cruel, and I won’t obey it. I shall go 
to see the Flemmings as long as they will let me 
come.” 

“ I do admire to see such impidence ! I’d lock 
you up, and keep you on bread and water,” ex- 
claimed Miss Debby, in an ecstasy of anger. 

Try it — any of you,” answered Huldah, turning 
her back once more. The Deacon, almost suffocated 
with excitement, went out without another word, to 
send his letter away by a messenger on horseback, 
that it might the sooner reach its destination ; and 
Miss Debby began a severe lecture, which Huldah 
put a stop to by telling her if she did not hold her 
tongue she would turn her out of the kitchen and 
lock the door; and as Miss Debby knew that her 
niece had not only the spirit but strength to put 
her threat into execution, she sniffed, took a good 
long stare at the girl, standing there with such a 
determined look as if only waiting for the slightest 
provocation to do as she said, gave her chin an extra 
elevation, cleared her throat vociferously, and said : 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


215 

is wasting breath to talk to yon, Huldy- 
Sneathen then held her peace. 

Huldah did not behave at all like a model young 
lady in defying her father, and threatening her aunt 
as she did ; but her nature had been engaged, ever 
since she could remember, in a life-long conflict 
with an injudicious training, which instead of crush- 
ing had developed the spontaneity of her impulsive 
character ; and if she had not propriety on her side 
in this instance, she had justice. Particularly im- 
proper — ^if she had only known it — was her allusion 
to the Pope ; but she only meant to let them know, 
in the strongest terms she could put it, that she 
would marry Nicholas Flemming if he were ten 
thousand times Catholic. 

The next day the Deacon received the following 
reply to his letter : 

April loth. 

Shadkach Sneathen, 

Sir : Your letter informing me of your decision in relation to 
the partnership hitherto existing between us is received. The 
accounts of Sneathen & Flemming are all balanced and can be 
closed at once. My son Nicholas has my authority to settle up 
my share of the concern. Respectfully yours, 

WoLFERT Flemming. 

‘‘ He’s jined to his idols,” muttered the Deacon, 
who felt much crestfallen as he read and re-read 
the brief note ; “ and he’s too proud even to thank 
me for the offer I made him. In fact, he don’t 
notice it any way. Wal ! I’ve done my duty.” 


216 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Flemming’s religion was too far above all sordid- 
ness to be dragged into the mire by such an ofiei as 
Deacon Sneathen had made him ; he did not give 
it a second thought in connection with the business, 
the loss of which, it is true, would bring upon him 
a crowd of cares and anxieties and pecuniary trou- 
bles, which he scarcely dared to think of ; much 
less did he listen to the faintest whisper of tempta- 
tion to compromise his faith for worldly ^'^in — his 
faith, for which he was prepared, if needs be, to 
sacrifice all. Then he wrote another letter, this one 
to Patrick McOue, in which he told him of the great 
change wrought in his religious sentiments by the 
book he had left him, thanked him with eloquent 
sincerity for the gift which had been productive of 
such great results to him, and asked him to select 
other Catholic books, doctrinal and devotional, and 
forward the package to him by the stage. Ho en- 
closed fifteen dollars, and though he did not know 
that it would ever reach him —he did not even know 
that the pedler 'was in Boston — he thought it some- 
thing worth the risk ; and asking the blessing of 
Almighty God on his intention, he rode over to 
Wier’s Landing, the nearest post-office, where he 
mailed his letter. Then he wrote to Nicholas, in- 
forming him of the events and changes that had so 
recently occurred, and directed him to wind up their 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


217 


business at the Pines as speedily as possible and 
return home. ' 

It was a day of surprises to Nicholas Flemming, 
who had never received more than one or two let- 
ters in his hfe, to get three in one day ; one from 
his father, which alone would have given him enough 
to think over for six months to come ; one from 
Deacon Sneathen, telling him that he withdrew his 
consent to his marriage with his daughter, “Huldy,” 
and ordered him not to visit her any more. The 
gi’otesque pigeon-English of the Deacon would have 
made Nick Flemming laugh if it had not been for the 
terrible things it meant, being nothing less than the 
destruction of his best earthly hopes and the 
wrecking of a career just begun. The third letter 
was from Huldah, written in a storm of anger and 
affection, which really did make him laugh and cry 
together. 

‘‘ You know, Nick,” she wrote, “ that it is no use 
to mmd father or Aunt Deb. either. I don’t. 
I never did. I know exactly what she's after, for 
she’s been nagging me about it ever since Eva 
threw George Merrill over; but it won’t do, 
although she has succeeded in talking father over 
to her plans. Not all the George Merrills in the 
world, if every one of them wore a crown, and had 
Alladeen’s lamp to boot, could induce me to change 


218 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


my mind. I don’t care a snap ; and if you don’t 
want to be oflf, I am 

“Affectionately and faithfully yours, 

“Huldah.” 

Nicholas Flemming had never in all his life ex- 
perienced such an excitement. “ Here,” thought 
he, “ is trouble in a heap. My father, of all men in 
the world, to go and turn Cathohc ; the business 
broken up, and I ordered not to see Hulda, whom 
I have loved ever since she was a little girl ! A 
pretty kettle of fish for a man to jump into. I won- 
der if I am awake ? Yes, I am wide awake. That 
pinch convinces me that I am not dreaming. I sup- 
pose there’s trouble enough at home among them 
all; and there’s my poor httle mother ! I wonder 
how she takes it? She hasn’t much love for 
Papist — I know that. But my father’s right to do 
what he pleases about his own soul — ^but, by George ! 
it’s mighty inconvenient! I know that he must 
have had weighty and good reasons for what he has 
done ! * * ^ Whew 1” Then Nicholas Flem- 

ming doubled up one fist, and holding the Deacon’s 
letter in the palm of his other hand he pounded it, 
then tore it into small bits and scattered them on 
the cold gusty air. Then he went into his hut, 
stirred up the coals on his hearth, filled his pipe, 
and sat down to smoke and think it all over. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


219 


CHAPTER XVI. 

TRIALS COME NOT SINGLY. ' 

When a Protestant disassociates himself from 
the sect with which he has been in communion, to 
join some other Protestant sect holding different 
doctrines, it is only necessary for him to present a 
“ certificate of good membership ” from his former 
pastor to be received. This certificate he obtains 
without difficulty, and however loth his pastor and 
brethren may be to lose him, they attach no odium 
to the act, which they look upon as a simple exer- 
cise of liberty of conscience, and which they con- 
sider one of the most sacred prerogatives of a 
free-born American citizen. He suffers neither in 
reputation or estate, and enjoys, with unctuous 
meekness, the coddling of his new co-rehgionists. 

But the case is different when a man becomes a 
convert to the Catholic faith. That means sacri- 
fice. It means humiliation. It means contempt. 
It means false accusations. It means the standing 
aloof of friends and neighbors. It means the Cross. 
It means, even now’, everywhere in this broad free 
land of ours — where ‘‘ liberty of conscience ” is the 
political boast of the demagogue, and the favorite 
sounding phrase of the pulpit— anathema. For when 
a man becomes a Catholic he enters not only into an 


220 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


entirely new spiritual life, but must be prepared for 
the painful rending of many ties which made the 
old one pleasant. He begins a warfare of grace 
against nature. It is a religion which accepts no 
compromise, because it is divine ; a faith which 
must reign supreme in the soul, and over the will, 
intellect, and being of its children — which being in 
sweet subjection to it, become elevated and holy. 

This contrast is full of a deep and significant 
meaning, which can be explained in no other way 
than that the kingdom of Christ upon earth, which 
is the Holy Catholic Church, being not of this 
world, all the thousand contradictory sects whose 
doctrines are human inventions — and, consequently 
of the world — are engaged in perpetual confiict 
against her ; and while they claim Christ as their 
Head, reject the doctrine He has revealed, tear to 
pieces His divine word to substantiate their falla- 
cies, and trample Him under the feet of poor finite 
human reason, and a more than half-pagan phi- 
losophy ! 

Why is it that when a man eminent for learning 
and talents becomes a Catholic it is immediately 
said by his former co-religionists that “ He always 
wanted balance ‘‘ He was a very eccentic per- 
son In fact, his friends always thought himy?^^^ 
not crazy, and some of them dreaded that he was 
entirely so.” Then with a smile of derision, they 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


221 


“ Hope with his visionary ideas that he may stop 
short of actual atheism.” Of other converts of 
less repute they declare them ‘‘Always to have 
been hypocrites ; and their going over to Eome 
was for wider license to sin, for which they could 
get ablution beforehand or that “Their ignorance 
had been imposed upon, and their senses led 
astray by religious pomps and ceremonies of the 
poor and obscure, who see, as in a city of refuge, 
the heavenly consolations of a true faith, they say: 
“ Poor ignorant souls ! we are well rid of them, 
and Popery is welcome to all such weeds. Let 
them support those whom they have perverted 
then they are stripped of employment and turned 
adrift to join that great army which is one of the 
distinctive marks of the true Church, the innumer- 
able army of the suffering poor, of whom our Lord 
said : “ The poor ye will always have with you.” 

There is no surer test of the truth of the Catholic 
religion than this undying, ceaseless persecution 
against it, and the spirit of sacrifice which it in- 
volves in its warfare with the faithful soul, enabling 
it in the end to exclaim : “ I have fought the good 
fight” ; then to go covered with the glorious scars 
of the confiict to receive its eternal reward. 

Many err through the accident of their birth and 
surroundings; some err, sincerely believing they 
“ do God a service” when they persecute His peo- 


222 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


pie ; and others through ignorance ; but alas ! for 
those who, more enlightened, close their eyes and 
see not, and their ears and hear not ; who stifle in 
their souls the whispers of grace and truth, and 
strike blindly against a divine faith which not even 
the “ gates of hell” can move ! Alas for such ! — 
were it not better that they had never been born ? 

Wolf ert Flemming felt ‘that he was getting into 
deep waters ; but a peace passing all human under- 
standing fllled his inner life and gave him courage- 
The out-look was not cheering. There was a 
mortgage on part of his property, which he had 
expected to clear and have a handsome profit over 
from the lumber business ; but, as I have related, 
he was cut quite off from that by Dacon Sneathen’s 
fanaticism. He could see no mode of relief except 
by selling, which it went severely against his heart 
even to think of ; for he had invested all his ready 
money the year before in building the large addi- 
tion to his house, in erecting a. new stone barn and 
other outhouses, and in enriching and fencing in 
his lands. It is true that he had a year before him 
in which to look round and manage for the best, 
but his way was so hemmed in just now, that if he 
could manage to pay interest and get the mortgage 
extended it was as much as he dared hope to accom- 
plish. In addition to this serious cause for anxiety, 
there was his wife growing thin; the light had 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


223 


faded out of her eyes, the cheerful ring was gone 
from her voice, and she was miserably unhappy. 
And the boy, Reuben, the idol of the household, 
grew more dreamy every day ; sometimes wan and 
drooping, at other times glowing and brilliant with 
feverish excitement, he was an enigma which none 
of them could comprehend. The doctor had been 
sent for, and his scrutiny into the case resulted in 
the sage opinion that “ he must be let alone. He 
was too fragile for bleeding and physicking, and 
must be as much as possible in the open air. He 
could not decide whether the case was one of inertia, 
or, what was worse, softening of the brain.” So 
Ruby had his liberty, which above all things he 
desired just now ; and he really was selfish enough 
to feel glad that they were all uneasy enough about 
him to follow the doctor’s sensible advice. Had it 
been otherwise some of his fine plans would have 
come to grief. For Ruby had a secret which he 
guarded with jealous care ; and when his keen-eyed, 
anxious little mother found out that the boy was 
making a mystery of something, it added to her un- 
happiness, and she wondered with a dull ache at 
her heart if he was going daft ? She had never got 
over the talk about the soft stone,” and nothing 
could have convinced her that it was not a feature 
of mental hallucination in him to imagine such a 
thing. 


224 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Then Nick had run down for a day and night from 
the Pines to get some instructions from his father 
relative to a final settlement of his affairs, and he 
told them about the letter he had got from Deacon 
Sneathen ; the poor fellow bore it bravely enough, 
for he had Huldah’s faithful, cheering letter as an 
offset to it ; but his father and mother knew that 
this sudden turn in the affairs of his young and 
happy life was no light burden for him to bear, and 
they comforted him as best they could, “ speaking 
words of endearment, where words of consolation 
availed not.”"^ Altogether the situation of the 
family at the Old Homestead was grave. But 
Wolf ert Flemming had counted the cost ; and come 
weal or woe, the peace of his soul was undisturbed, 
his faith unshaken. The reasons from Milner’s 
‘‘ End of Controversy” went on regularly every 
evening — Mrs. Flemming now habitually absenting 
herself. Her quaint high-backed chair looked for- 
lorn and empty ; they not only missed her presence, 
but deplored the cause ; even the great tortoise- 
shell cat, which was wont to sleep curled up at her 
feet, seemed to understand that something was 
wrong, and finally one night mounted quietly into 
the chair where she sat, sadly blinldng at the fire 
until her mistress came in to prayers, then spring- 
ing lightly to the floor she met her half-way, rubbed 
• Longfellow. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


225 


her sides against her and lay down in her old place 
at her feet, where she dozed contentedly. This 
grotesque little episode occurred every night, and 
no one disturbed Griselda, who, like her famous 
namesake, behaved with the greatest propriety. 
Meanwhile Eva and Hope became more and more 
interested, and more sincerely convinced by the 
arguments they heard that the Catholic faith was 
the one, only true, and holy apostolic faith, upon 
earth. Convinced of the divine origin and truth of 
the Church, a belief in its dogmas necessarily fol- 
lowed, although their faith in some of these was 
not altogether clear ; for instance, the doctrine of 
Purgatory, so unlike anything they had ever heard 
of or conceived, was a drawback; also Tradition 
and Invocation of Saints were subjects which they 
discussed night after night with their father, who 
in his grave patient way turned first to the Bible 
and then to Milner, linking the proofs together by 
his own strong natural reason and the inspirations 
of grace, until they felt that however strongly their 
human reason might be opposed to such doctrines 
they could not see how they could believe otherwise 
— and experienced for the first time in their lives 
that grace is supernatural, and above all worldly 
reason and philosophy ; that the high mysteries of 
God are not to be solved by mortal minds, qv 
dragged into the mire of human understanding, but 


226 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


were to be reverenced and adored. Then it occurred 
to them that the Trinity, which they had always 
believed, without the shadow of a doubt, was a 
greater and more inaccessible mystery than any of 
these new dogmas they had been hearing about, 
and which they desired to accept ; yet they had 
never thought it necessary to fathom its meaning, 
or even troubled themselves for a single moment 
about it ; they simply believed it, and if need be 
would have suffered death rather than deny their 
faith in it. They had many talks together over 
their sewing in the daytime, when their mother 
was not present, on the subject of the previous 
night’s reading ; grave, quiet conversations, indi- 
cating not only an appreciation of new and strange 
information, which in itself affords a certain plea- 
sure to intelligent minds, but the dawn and awak- 
ing of a spiritual life which already inspired them 
to place their will in subjection to the supreme will 
and service of God. And Eva daily meditated on 
the picture that the pedler gave her. She had 
learnt much about that Virgin Mother who stood 
w^eeping at the Cross. Her Bible told her in its 
prophecies and in its gospels who She was ; and 
Milner told her how and why the Church venerated 
her and sought her intercession — and the thought 
of Maey became more deeply precious to her ; it 
was her companion in solitude ; it was the purest 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


227 


and tenderest motive of lier soul, tte model by 
■whicli she was interiorly striving to fashion her 
own life. She was the sinless Mother of J esus ; 
through Him she was also hers ; she was the new 
Eve who had brought heahng and salvation to her 
progeny, instead of malediction and eternal woe as 
did the first Eve. She suffered in her soul all that 
her Son suffered in His body, that the ruin wrought 
by our first mother might be healed ; and — thought 
the girl — lest her Son’s passion should become, 
through our own perverseness, fruitless for us, she 
intercedes without ceasing for us, for whom she 
suffered a supreme martyrdom. Then Eva began 
to understand that the little statue in old Missis- 
quoi’s room was not an ideal ‘‘ Peace” or ‘‘ Charity,” 
but an image of the holy Mother and her Divine 
Babe ; and in a little while the table was covered 
with an embroidered drapery; it was drawn out 
from the side of the wall and set in the middle of 
the room, with the ivy-covered window for a back- 
ground, and before the statue she daily placed a 
vase of wild fiowers. Into this retreat Eva used to 
steal at twihght, sometimes at sunrise, and in fact 
whenever an opportunity presented itself, to offer 
her pure devotions, to read and meditate on all the 
wonderful and sublime truths which were gradually 
illuminating her spirit, and ask with timid yearning 
love the intercession of the Mother of Jesus. After 


228 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


a little time tlie family got to know where Eva was 
to be found when slie was missing, for she now 
often took her sewing with her, and sat there full 
of content and peace, thinking and thinking of her 
sweet Virgin Mother until all earthly things were 
lost sight of. One day her mother surprised her 
there. Mrs. Flemming stood on the threshold and 
saw it all : the image, the flowers, the embroidered 
draperies ; and, above all, Eva sitting there on a 
low chair, her hands lightly clasped over her knee, 
and her face uplifted, gazing with a rapt far-away 
look in her eyes upon the fair likeness of Mary. 

‘‘ Eva,” she said, in a hoarse, harsh voice, “ What 
is this? Has it really come to image-worship 
under this roof ? Are you all mad or possessed ?” 

Eva started and looked round. “ Not worship- 
ping the image, mother,” she answered quickly, as 
she rose and stood, making a little gesture with 
her hand towards the statue. ‘‘ It represents the 
Mother of Jesus ; and I was thinking of her holy 
life and exalted virtues, and wishing that I might 
even in a feeble and imperfect way, imitate them.” 

“ She was no better than any other converted 
woman. I don’t deny that she was converted,” * 
said Mrs. Flemming ; ‘‘ but you ought to be 
ashamed of yourself to practice such idolatry as to 
be paying her honors which are due only to God, 

♦This was said to me by an intelligent Protestant lady a few 
weeks ago. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


229 


you wlio have been sitting under the teachings of 
the gospel so many years.” 

Mother !” asked Eva, in her grave, sweet way, 
so much like her father’s, ‘‘ is it idolatry for me to 
love you, to think of you, to desire to resemble 
you, and to ask the aid of your prayers? Is it 
giving to a creature the worship which is due to 
God to do this ?” 

It is a different thing entirely. It makes me 
sick, such false reasoning,” she replied, nervously. 

“ Dear mother, if it is not idolatry for me to love 
you and try to imitate your virtues, it is not idola- 
try for me to love the Mother of Jesus who was 
sinless and holy, and try to model my poor life on 
hers,” said Eva, while a soft glow crimsoned her 
cheeks, and her brave truthful eyes beamed with 
an unearthly brightness. 

“ It is all foohshness !” exclaimed Mrs. Elem- 
ming. “ I wish to hear no more of it ; it would 
take a miracle to change my opinions about all 
these new-fangled superstitious doings and doc- 
trines.” Then she went away, ready to cry out in 
her desolation and anger ; she went into her own 
room and threw herseff upon the floor, weeping in 
the bitterness of her soul and wondering no longer 
that the Jews, in their time of affliction, used to 
put ashes upon their heads and wrap themselves in 
sackcloth; some such thing would have been a 


230 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


great relief to her, but she was a Christian, to 
whom all Jewish rites, as well as all rehgious 
pomps and ceremonies, were abominations ; so she 
could only try to pray. But latterly the heavens 
had become as brass over her head, and whenever 
she had sought consolation in prayer she could 
only weep those hot bitter tears, to which, until 
the perversion of her family, she had been a stran- 
ger. 

‘‘Eva,” said her father, that evening, “your 
mother tells me that you spend much of ^ your time 
in old Missisquoi’s room. Be careful, for I think 
the ceiling is unsound. There has been a leak in 
the roof this long time which should have been 
mended.” 

“ Is the ceiling cracked, father ? I did not no- 
tice !” replied Eva. 

“ Yes, cracked entirely across ; but it is not very 
perceptible ; however, I will see to it. I am glad 
the room is used. A shut-up, never-used place like 
that in a house, is not canny !” he said, with one of 
his old pleasant smiles. 

Then came a day when Wolfert Flemming was 
summoned before his Church to answer for his 
contumacy and backsliding. His family wished 
him to spare himself the humiliation ; and although 
He would not have sought it, still less was he going 
to avoid the opportunity that it gave him to con- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


231 


fess tlie Faith openly ; so he signified his intention 
of appearing before them on the following Sunday 
afternoon. 

Never was the old meeting-house so crowded. 
People came from far and near to hear what he 
would have to say to extenuate his course of con- 
duct. They were full of vague expectation and 
curiosity, many of them hoping that at the last 
moment he would recant the errors into which he 
had fallen and ask to be restored to the member- 
ship he had forfeited in his Church ; and when he 
arose and stood before them in all his dignity, his 
grave noble countenance and frank honest eyes 
confronting them calmly and fearlessly, the silence 
became almost breathless. Then he began in clear 
level tones to set forth his “ reasons for the faith 
that was in him,” which carried to the mind of 
each one present the conviction that the man was 
speaking the ‘‘ words of truth and soberness.” He 
went over the whole ground of his rehgious expe- 
rience, describing in simple and graphic language 
how his doubts were first awakened by observing 
the contradictory doctrines of the various sects 
composing the Protestant world ; how he became 
still more disquieted by studying the scriptures in 
search of a solution of his difficulties, which so far 
from silencing his doubts, plunged him into still 
greater ; he spared them nothing of the mental ex- 


232 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ercises he had passed through, and from the Bible 
and Milner’s End of Controversy, in clear, lucid 
and simple terms, told them how at last his soul 
had found rest, as under the shadow of a great 
rock in a weary land.” His heart kindled still 
more as he talked to them ; the truth inspired him 
with strange eloquence, and, without a word that 
could pain or offend the bitterest Puritan there, he 
set before them with logical force the pre-eminent 
claims of the holy CathoHc Church to a divine 
origin and incorrupt Faith. He explained in sim- 
ple style her dogmas, and spoke of her sacraments 
and consolations with a zeal, a fluency and pathos 
which amazed all who listened to him. 

Many were filled with wonder at the strange 
doctrines he discoursed about ; some heard him in 
anger, some were almost persuaded to go and do 
likewise ; some of the w^omen wept, and all listened 
to him with - rapt attention. Old Father Bay sat 
through it all with his head bowed and his face 
covered with his hands, never once trusting him- 
self to look towards him. Deacon Sneathen, his 
face purple, as with threatened apoplexy, from the 
beginning to the end of it gazed intently into his 
hat, which was stuck between his knees, as if it 
were the well in which truth abode. Miss ‘Debby 
“ sat in the seat of the scorner,” her chin stuck up 
to its highest possible angle, and upon her hard 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


233 


face a more grim and unpleasant expression than 
usual. Mrs. Flemming, who, in a spirit of Puritan 
and Spartan combined, had determined with wifely 
and womanly devotion to be present, to stand if 
need be by her husband’s side, to show them all 
that whoever forsook him she would abide with 
him, could not forbear thinking, as she listened to 
arguments which she had never heard before, that 
there was much plausibility in them, and received 
impressions which she did not until a later day 
acknowledge. Nicholas — who was also there — 
thought his father had made his case good and de- 
fended it ably ; while Eva and Hope held up their 
heads proudly, gazing at him with fond affection, 
beheving as he believed, and rejoicing in every 
word that fell from his hps. Reuben, who had 
shown no interest one way or the other in the 
spiritual disturbance in the family, had slipped off 
directly after dinner for one of his solitary rambles, 
and could not be found when the chaise started 
from home ; consequently he was not there. Huldah 
was sitting near her aunt, and nodded and smiled 
to the Flemmings in the face of the congregation, 
who fluttered with indignant surprise at such an 
infraction of Puritan decorum, to say nothing of 
the disapprobation they felt at her noticing people 
who were actually under the ban of public opinion. 
But Huldah did not observe the sensation she 


234 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


caused, and would not liave cared a snap for it if 
she had. 

It was high noon when Wolfert Flemming began 
to speak ; when he finished, the last golden beams 
of the setting sun shone through the old hemlocks 
around the windows. Then Father Eay got up, 
and, in tones whose tremulousness he in vain at- 
tempted to control, read to the congregation the 
formula which severed Wolfert Flemming from all 
religious communion with them ; a most senseless 
thing, as he had sometime before voluntarily with- 
drawn himseM. But the humiliation which gave 
him an opportunity to confess and defend the faith, 
sunk into the smallest insignificance by the side of 
its results. 

When the people all left the meeting-house, 
some few came up out of very shame and shook 
hands with Wolfert Flemming, then hurried off as 
if fearful of contagion — ^but the others stood aloof, 
neither speaking or shaking hands, or by even a 
nod recognizing him, except Huldah Sneathen, 
who left her father and aunt and marched up be- 
fore them all, and with a heightened color in her 
cheeks and a brighter sparkle in her handsome 
eyes held out her hand to her old friend, who, 
touched by the act under the circumstances, 
pressed it in his broad palm and said : ‘‘ God bless 
you child.” Then she stood chatting with Hope, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


235 


Eva and Nicholas, throwing defiant glances to the 
right and left about her, until Miss Debby, unable 
to bear it another instant, came up, and grasping 
her by the arm exclaimed : ‘‘ Huldy Sneathen, I 
admire to see you ! Ain’t you ashamed of your- 
self! Come ’long, and don’t keep your father 
waiting 1” 

‘‘ I’m coming to spend the afternoon with you 
and Eva to-morrow, Hope,” said Huldah, in her 
old famihar tones. ‘‘Good-by all.” Then she 
turned to Miss Debby, and in hearing of every 
one said : “ I declare I I thought the bears had 
me ! You ought to be ashamed to give me such a 
scare, Deborah 1” 

To be called Deborah, with the accent upon the 
o as was the fashion in those days, always stirred 
up the wrath of this severe maiden ; but on this 
occasion the allusion to the bears and the Deborah 
together were overpowering, and rendered her 
quite speechless. 

CHAPTEE XVII. 

JOHN WILDE. 

John Wilde was at last ready to leave Boston 
and turn his face homeward. He had been away 
nearly four weeks, including his journey thither, 
and it would be almost five before he got back ; 


236 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


for lie had a hundred miles to travel with his two 
heavily loaded wagons, over roads which in some 
places for a stretch of miles were worse than the 
famed corduroy roads of the South, and in others 
amounted to nothing better than old Indian trails, 
up hill and down, through marshes and over disin- 
tegrated rocks which seemed to have been dropped 
at random from the clouds, or were the debris — as 
some gravely assert— of glaciers long since melted. 
But John Wilde gave himself no trouble about the 
difficulties of the route except to get over them the 
best way he could, nor puzzled his brain about the 
natural phenomena that originated them ; he was 
far too happy and too full of bright anticipations 
of the future to let himself be disturbed by such 
trifles ; and, as far as he could see, there was not a 
shadow to darken the aureole that crowned it. He 
was not a man given to building castles in Spain ; 
but he often found himself, as the sturdy team 
crept slowly along dragging the great creaking 
wagons loaded with his household goods, thinking 
of how his home would look when Hope Flemming 
— soon to be his wife — ^brightened and consecrated 
it with her presence. He wondered how she would 
like his purchases, and in which rooms she would 
place this or that piece of furniture, certain that 
however she arranged them they would bear the 
impress of her good taste. He knew how good, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


237 


without pretence, she was; how pure and true, 
without dissimulation ; how thoroughly domestic 
and womanly in her habits ; how thrifty in all her 
ways ; and he longed for the hour when he could 
look on her grave beautiful face again, and watch 
the brightening of her eyes and the soft blushes 
mantling her cheeks as he discussed their future 
plans and talked over his purchases together. 
Sometimes a lurch of the wagon aroused him from 
his pleasant dreams ; sometimes a sudden halt of 
the tired horses interrupted them ; sometimes they 
melted into the music of the bells upon the horses ; 
sometimes they were rudely broken upon by the 
unexpected bursting of a mountain storm, which 
threatened, while it lasted, to sweep him and his 
dreams and household treasures away together. 
And he felt truly and happily thankful to find, after 
the flurry was over, that everything was safe ; for 
he was very proud of his purchases, knowing that 
Hope would like them — he knew her tastes so well. 
The real mahogany sofa and work-stand ; the 
gilded cane-seat chairs ; the large round centre- 
table, standing on carved claws tipped with brass, 
upon which she would arrange the choice books he 
had bought her ; the handsome cherrywood furni- 
ture for the bedrooms ; the green carpet covered 
with roses ; the crimson carpet covered with gar- 
lands of oak leaves ; the blue carpet covered with 


238 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


wliite daisies ; the beautiful pieces of furniture ; 
chintz — real French ; the neat gold-banded china ; 
the new bright kitchenware ; and, above all, a gilt 
oval-framed mirror for the best room ! How could 
Hope fail to admire them, and give credit to his 
good taste ? It was a rare thing in those days for 
a young bride, up there in the hill country to go to 
housekeeping in such nice style, but then Hope, he 
thought, was without her equal, and must have 
suitable surroundings. John Wilde spent nearly 
five hundred dollars in Boston, but if it had been 
five thousand he would have thought it scarcely 
worthy of one so fair, so good and beautiful. Then 
he went on dreaming of the time when her home 
should be the stateliest and most elegant in all 
New Hampshire ; and, when, about middle life, 
when his hair would be touched with white, and 
fair sons and daughters gathered about him and 
their beautiful mother, he would go to Congress, 
and finally take his seat in the National Senate ! 
Then he thought of Hope presiding over the refined 
and cultivated society of the metropohs — for there 
really was in those days a refined and cultivated 
society there — and gracing with sweet dignity the 
high position he had won for her — when the wagon 
wheels slipped into a gully, and brought John Wilde 
down from his seat upon the flanks of his horses, 
dispersing his day dreams, and giving him no end 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


239 


of actual trouble in getting things to rights once 
more. So we see that the man had ambition too ; 
but it was for her. It is astonishing what capacity 
there is in the mind of these quiet practical peo- 
ple, who apparently don’t know the difference be- 
tween a rose and a thistle, for castle building ! and 
how happy they are in the beautiful structures 
sprung into existence by virtue of rubbing the lamp 
they carry about, hidden in their bosom ! I don’t 
say that this sort of people originate their fair 
imaginations in idle day-dreaming. Far from it. 
They must have, as John Wilde had, a real substan- 
tial foundation, and fair outlooks to build upon ; 
then nothing seems impossible to their fancy, 
nothing too high or noble for their aspirations. 

John Wilde was, a happy man the day he caught 
sight of the old gables and high chimney-tops of 
home. He whistled the old tunes that he and 
Hope had learned together in singing class ; he 
looked over his broad rich acres of farm and wood- 
land, beautified by cascade and mountain slope, 
and his eyes brightened at the thought of endowing 
her with these and all other of his worldly goods ; 
if he had been master of a world he would have 
thought it worth nothing unshared by her ! 

Mrs. Wilde heard the wagon bells far off, wind- 
ing around the moutain and crossing the little valley 
nestling between the hills, and she knew that John 


240 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


was nearing home; that he was coming straight 
under a cloud to meet a trial such as he had never 
dreamed of ; and she had not the heart to go out 
to welcome him, for she knew that what she had to 
tell him would shake his brave, honest heart to its 
depths. He feared that she was sick, when he did 
not see her standing as usual on the vine-clad porch, 
waving her handkerchief to him, as she always did 
when he came home from a journey ; but his 
uneasiness merged into something like anger, when 
he got in and found her quietly moving around, 
setting the tea-table ! He knew that she must 
have heard the bells, and wondered why she did 
not meet him as she had always done ever since he 
was a boy ; then he noticed a restraint and reti- 
cence in her manner, which altogether made his 
welcome-home the coldest he had ever experienced. 
It was like the first heavy rain-drop of a coming 
storm, before the blue sky and sunshine are ob- 
scured; and it fell with a sudden chill into the 
warm, loving nature of the man. But he had 
enough to do outside ; so, instead of staying there 
sulking, he left Mrs. Wilde still pottering about 
the table, her heart so full that she was ready on 
the slightest provocation to burst out crying, and 
went to assist the men in unloading his treasures 
from the wagons, for, mark you, these were things 
to be handled with the greatest care, that she 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


241 


miglit receive tliem without scratch or scaur.” 
After stowing them away carefully — as you may 
believe — in the new part of the house, where he 
and Hope were to live — which was full of the clear, 
pure smell of whitewash and fresh paint, and 
where not a speck of dirt or litter was to be seen — 
he locked the door and went back to the sitting- 
room, the old sitting-room with its low blue ceiling 
and black-walnut chair-boarding, which he remem- 
bered from his earhest boyhood, and which he had 
made over with all the old portion of the house to 
his mother, that she might still be mistress there ; 
and where, as she said, “ she would not be turned 
out of the old tracks she had been walking in for 
nearly forty years;” adding: “It is better, John, 
for young married folks to live alone, and get used 
to one another without anybody meddhng. I had a 
hard time with my mother-in-law and other step- 
kin, who came nigh breaking my happiness and 
heart together ; and I determined then never to 
hve with you and your wife, if I could help it ; and 
I won’t, for human nature is human nature, just as 
certain as twice one makes two — and we mightn’t 
understand each other ; then, where would you be ?” 

Mrs. Wilde was sitting at the head of the table, 
ready to pour out his coffee, when he came in. 

“I am glad to have you home again, John,” said 

Mrs. Wilde, who had a pale, scared look in her face. 


242 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


‘‘ Are you sick, mother ?” he asked, looking fix- 
edly at her. 

‘‘No, indeed. What put that into your head? 
I am never sick.’’ 

“ Well, I don’t know. It seems like there’s 
something the matter. You never met me hke 
this before. Surely, surely, mother, the thought of 
my wife is not getting disagreeable to you. I have 
heard of such jealousies !” 

“Make your mind easy on that score, John. 
Should Hope Flemming ever be your wife, there’ll 
be no jealousies between us, depend upon that.” 

“ Should Hope Flemming ever be my wife ! 
What nonsense ! when we are to be married in two 
weeks ! I’d like to know what you mean, mother ? 
There seems to be something of a mystery,” he 
said, feehng scared as he went on. “Is Hope 
well? Is there anything the matter at Elder 
Flemmings’ ?” 

“Finish your supper, John, and we’ll have a 
talk,” said Mrs. Wilde, stirring her tea, and look- 
ing down into her cup. She would have burst out 
crying if she had met his eyes. 

“ Are they all well down there?” he asked, sternly. 

“ Perfectly well,” she answered; “but eat your 
supper, my boy ; there, try a muffin, and eat some 
of that custard pie. Do, John, try and eat your 
supper.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


243 


‘‘ Try and eat !” It is the way with some people 
to think that eating is a panacea for all troubles, 
and that others who are stricken by griefs and 
trials, which almost crush them, can be materially 
relieved by ‘‘ a nice hot cup of tea,” a “ delicious 
broiled chicken,” or “ some of the nicest preserves, 
now, you ever tasted;” and urge their pleasant 
remedies persistently upon them, until, driven to 
desperation, they gulp down the hot tea, choke 
themselves with muffins or broiled chicken, as the 
case may be, and swallow the preserves, altogether 
careless whether they are honey or gall, just to rid 
themselves of well-meant importunities and there- 
by add the horrors of indigestion to the sum of 
their sorrows. 

But John Wilde was made of sterner stuff; so he 
pushed his plate and cup back, saying he had 
finished his supper; then reverently returning 
thanks for blessings which it was not the fault of 
Providence that he had rejected, he got up and 
told his mother that he was going to saddle his 
horse and ride down to Elder Flemming’s to see 
what all this was about.” 

Then she bade him stay ; and, taking his hand 
tenderly in hers, she led him to the sofa and told 
him all that had happened at the Old Homestead 
while he was away. Elder Flemming — no longer 
Elder — ^had become a regular out and out Papist, 


244 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


and had been turned out of meeting ; and Eva and 
Hope — yes, Hope too — professed openly the same 
idolatrous creed ! All of them, except Mrs. Flem- 
ming ; who was much pitied by every one, but who 
kept very stiff and silent about her troubles ; and 
Eeuben — he stuck by his mother. But Nicholas, 
he had told Father Bay right out that the fact of 
such a good man as his father becoming a Catholic 
convinced him that the Catholic faith had some- 
thing in it that was at least worth inquiry ; and he 
intended reading and examining into it from be- 
ginning to end ; and if it come up to his ideas of 
what religion should be, he would go with them at 
the risk of everything. It was the first religion he 
had heard of,” he said, that cost a man anything, 
and that a man was ready to lose all for ; therefore 
he thought it must be something more than sing- 
ing and praying and preaching once a week.” 
‘‘He said all that, John, to Father Hay, and Father 
Bay is so cut up by it all that he looks ten years 
older. You know he thought the sun rose and set 
in the Flemmings. Then Deacon Sneathen 
wouldn’t reneiv the partnership with Elder Flem- 
ming, and they say has broken off the match be- 
tween Nicholas and Huldy !” 

Here was a batch of trouble; for John Wilde 
was a conscientious Puritan, serving God accord- 
ing to his lights, and believing himself to be walk- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


245 


ing in tlie laws of the gospel, and it was apparent 
to him at once that unless Hope could be reclaimed 
from these Popish errors there was much unhappi- 
ness in store for them. How could he marry a 
Papist ! It seemed better to him to marry a 
pagan, who might in the end become converted ! 
But a Papist ! a brood of papistical children ! — a 
house divided against itseK ! It was a great blow 
to the young man. His mother said all this to 
him too, repeating his own unuttered thoughts, 
and told him that Father Eay and his friends had 
expressed the same opinions. He was in great 
distress, but he had not seen Hope herself. It was 
too late to go down to the lake now, but he would 
go early after breakfast the next morning. It had 
all come upon him like an earthquake, tumbling 
down the fair fabric of his life about his ears with 
a crash. It was almost more than the man could 
bear. His mother heard him walking his floor all 
night ; and when, towards daylight, not being able 
to bear these signs of his distress any longer, she 
went in to him to try and comfort him, he laid 
his tired, aching head upon her shoulder, and, 
completely unmanned, sobbed Hke a whipped 
child. 

‘‘Don’t cry, John,” said Mrs. Wilde, almost 
blinded by her own tears ; “ may be Hope won’t, 
after all. You go and have a good, long talk over 


246 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


. • t' 

it witli her, and I guess she’ll give it up when she 
finds there’s danger of losing you.” 

‘‘ Not if she thinks it right, mother. You don’t 
know Hope Flemming. She’s like her father. 
She’d burn at the stake sooner than give up a prin- 
ciple she thought right,” he answered. 

“ The Flemmings are all alike, that’s a fact,” said 
Mrs. Wilde. ‘‘ If they once take up a thing, and 
believe it to be the right thing, you might as well 
attempt to move the Sandwich Mountains into 
Lake AVinnipiseogee as to expect to change them. 
But, John, trust in the Lord ! His arm is strong ; 
have faith in Him and He will not fail you in your 
hour of need. I don’t want to believe that, after 
all, it will come to pass that you and Hope Flem- 
ming will not be man and wife! I tell you, John, 
I’ve shed many a bitter tear since all this trouble 
came about ; and when I heard the wagon bells 
tinkling ’way off there on the mountain, and knew 
you were coming, I felt like runniag away to hide 
myself, I dreaded so much having to tell you sor- 
rowful news. It’s hard on me too, for I’ve been 
counting so surely on ending my days here with 
you and Hope, and the children God might see fit 
to send you. But lay down awhile, honey! It 
won’t ease your mind, but it’ll rest your body. It 
must be near daybreak, for all it’s so black out ; 
and don’t forget, John, that the very darkest hour 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


247 


of the night is that just before dawn.” And the 
good woman drew his head to her bosom as she 
stood beside him, he sitting on the bedside, and 
pressed her wet cheek down among his tangled 
brown curls, with a prayer in her inmost soul that 
God in His mercy would pity her child and avert 
from him this great trial of his life ; which meant, 
from their stand-point, a desire that Hope Flem- 
ming would cast aside the errors in which she was 
entangled, otherwise it was clear to both of them 
that the marriage must be broken off. 

But the human heart is prone to seek even in the 
depths of misery for the sweet solace of hope ; and 
John Wilde, like a drowning man grasping at float- 
ing seaweed, at last began to lay hold of the possi- 
bility that things were not quite as bad as they had 
just appeared. He began to take into considera- 
tion the spirit of exaggeration which always pre- 
vails in small communities, to which their own 
neighborhood formed no exception ; and to make 
allowance for the bitter feelings among his sect 
against Bomanism ; also for the stale fact that as 
gossip travels its dimensions as surely increase in 
substance and bulk, as a snowl^all does that is rolled 
in the snow. Anything better than giving up Hope. 
He couldn’t stand that. It is strange that it never 
once occurred to him that Hope of her own free 
will might reject him because he did not believe as 


248 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


slie did ; that she, on her part, might not be willing 
to compromise her happiness — ^ well as he — 
knowing how widely their beliefs differed. 

The next morning early he drove down to the 
Old Homestead, taking with him some httle presents 
he had brought for Hope’s acceptance. 

The Flemmings were all glad to see him, and the 
welcome they gave him differed in no wise from 
the cordial welcome of other days; there was no 
change outwardly that he could see, and yet there 
was an indefinable something, originating possibly 
in his having heard all that he had and in the un- 
pleasant position it had placed him in, which made 
him feel as if a transparent but impenetrable mist 
had risen between him and them. Then, little by 
little, he began to notice things which to a casual 
observer would not have been in the least apparent. 
He saw that Hope’s cheek had lost* some of its 
roundness and bloom : and that her eyes, as they 
met his now and then in the old frank way, wore a 
grave and somewhat sad expression ; and he lis- 
tened in vain for the low sweet laughter which 
always sounded to him like the warbling of a bird. 
Mrs. Flemming’s facg wore a look of care, which he 
noticed more particuiiy when she was not speak- 
ing ; she had lost flesh and color, and there was a 
heavy troubled look in her large black eyes once so 
full of life and spirit ! But she Avas A^ery glad to 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


249 


see John Wilde, and m her heart hailed him as an 
ally who would give her help in these religious diffi- 
culties, which, hke a rising flood, were sweeping 
her near and dear ones away from her to certain 
destruction. Wohert Flemming and Eva were 
cheerful, more cheerful than he had ever seen them; 
and it was a strange sort of cheerfulness, so full 
was it of serenity, and so far above all levity, yet 
so genial and kind, that when they asked him about 
his journey to Boston and back, and he became in- 
terested in describing the wonders of the city and 
some of the perils of the road, he almost forgot his 
troubles ; for the conversation became general, and 
it seemed like the old times again. But presently 
the family one after another went away to their 
various occupations, leaving him alone with Hope, 
and he realized his position with such a sick feel- 
ing at his heart that it almost blinded him. He 
placed the presents he had brought her — a pearl 
brooch and a plain heavy gold ring — in her hands. 
She opened the morocco case and looked at them, 
as if admiring them, then laid it quietly on the 
workstand beside her without saying a word. 

“ I thought perhaps you would hke them, Hope!” 
he said, mortified at her indifference. 

They are beautiful,” she answered, “ and I 
thank you for thinking of me.” Then they were 
both silent ; she stitching away on a linen waist- 


250 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


band for her father — he watching her, full of a 
great love and sorrow. 

‘‘ I have heard strange news since I came home !” 
he said at last, unable to bear the strain of uncer- 
tainty any longer. 

“ I suppose so. You mean my father’s conver- 
sion to the Cathohc Church ?” she answered. 

Aye, and of all others of your household, your- 
self included, Hope,” he said. 

It is true. I am also a Catholic for life and 
death, John,” she replied, in firm low tones. 

‘‘How in God’s name did it all happen? Tell 
me, Hope ! It is the most remarkable thing I ever 
heard of — and, to me, the most painful,” he ex- 
claimed. 

And Hope told him how it had all come to pass, 
giving him reasons, as she went on, for the faith 
that was in her. Nor did she falter, at a loss for 
words, or arguments, or proofs ; simply and truly, 
almost eloquently, she made her reasons for becom- 
ing a Catholie clear to his mind, but not to his 
faith. Then he discussed the whole matter with 
her ; he argued and pleaded, and appealed to her 
by the love which had grown up between them, and 
by the regard she ought to feel for his happiness^ 
tQ abandon the errors and idolatries into which she 
had been led, and return to the religion taught by 
the gospel ; almost his wife as she was, he had 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


251 


a right, for the sake of their future, to ask this of 
her. But so far from yielding in the slightest 
degree to anything he said, she told him plainly, 
while her eyes kindled, and her cheeks, a little 
while ago so pale, glowed : “ That no earthly con- 
sideration or motive could change her conviction 
of the truth of the Catholic religion ; and that so 
far from relapsing into the darkness and errors 
which she had just abandoned, she would not rest 
satisfied until her union with the Catholic Church 
was consummated by a reception of its Sacraments. 
‘‘ For this,” she added, am ready to give up all 
things, even you, John, unless God by His grace 
converts you to this holy and true faith.” 

“ I have no thought of changing, Hope. God 
forbid. I am satisfied with what the gospel and 
the Westminster Catechism teach. Least of all 
could I become a Papist. I could not beheve all 
the nonsensical idolatrous things that Papists be- 
lieve, to save my life,” he said in low husky tones. 

“ The Catholic faith is not nonsensical or idola- 
trous, as you would find if you would take the 
trouble to inform yourself. Promise me, at least, 
to read a book which I will lend you. Or come 
down of evenings and let us read it together,” she 
said pityingly. 

“ I will do that, Hope,” said the poor fellow ; 

but I couldn’t believe anything more than I do, 


252 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


or in any other way, if I was to try from now 
until doomsday.’’ 

“ Try, John ; try for your soul’s sake — and for 
the sake of our happiness,” she said, in a low 
voice. You know how impossible it will be for 
us to marry, entertaining religious beliefs so widely 
differing. The case seems, no doubt, peculiarly 
trying ; but this newly-found faith is so essential to 
my salvation, and so suited to all the demands of 
my reason and soul, that I repeat there is no 
earthly motive or power that could induce me to 
relinquish it. Knowing this, the best that I can 
do is to implore you to examine this holy faith, 
which you will find based and founded and built 
up’ on the Bible, and adopt its creed if you can. 
In that case we can be happy together ; otherwise 
we must become as strangers to each other.” 

It is a hard, bitter case,” said John Wilde, 
bringing his clenched hand heavily down on his 
knee ; “and it seems to me that you take it coolly, 
Hope, and think no more of wrecking my happi- 
ness than you would to sweep away a cobweb.” 

“ I cannot tell you,” she said, her voice tremu- 
lous with emotion. “ I cannot tell you all the ex- 
tent of this trial to me, or give you an idea of its 
bitterness. Remember, John, that you have to 
lose something, I also sacrifice somewhat that was 
dear to me ; but not to gain the whole world would 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


253 


I consent to lose my soul, or even place it in 
peril.” 

“ Hope,” he said at last, raising his head from 
his hand, ‘‘you ha\e never earnestly sought con- 
version ; if you had, you had never fallen into this 
delusion and error. Lay aside these, novelties, at 
least for a season, and pray to be truly converted!” 

“ I do not and never have believed in that sud- 
den, instantaneous, extatic change of soul and na- 
ture which you call conversion, and which has 
always seemed such an unutterable state that I 
could never think of. otherwise than as a delu- 
sion,” she replied. “It seems' to me that conver- 
sion is a deliberate response of the will to the 
grace of God, placing itself under subjection to 
His will to work out the soul’s salvation. Behgion 
is a warfare, not a duel. It is a science which we 
must learn with simplicity and humility, from its 
very rudiments, grace assisting our will. First the 
seed, then the plant, then the flower — after all, the 
fruit. The result is not the effect of a sudden trans- 
formation, but gradual progression, ‘ and if there 
are examples of men regenerated by a single expe- 
rience, they are so rare as only to prove the general 
rule of patient progression.’ I feel that having 
found the right path, which is essential, that I can 
only advance a step at a time, stumbling and often 
falling back at that, that I must be engaged in an 


254 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


incessant warfare with my own nature as I go ; that 
I must labor and work out my salvation and be in- 
fluenced and governed in every motive and act of 
my life by the thought of the end for which, 
through the merits of Jesus Christ, I strive. This 
is what the Catholic religion and my own reason 
teaches me about conversion.” 

‘‘ Could you not do all that in the religion you 
have abandoned ?” he asked. 

‘‘ No, John. To be a Christian I must feel sure 
that I am running not against, but according to the 
divine law. I must be satisfied that the Church to 
which I belong has a divine origin and faith, and 
is not divided against herself ; but is one, holy, 
true and immutable — havmg one Lord, one Faith, 
and one Baptism. Everything must be clear to 
my faith and to my reason. All this I have found 
in the Catholic religion. What its other consola- 
tions are, I do not know experimentally, not having 
had the happiness to receive the Sacraments.” 

Hope, I see that you are irretrievably joined to 
your errors. My God ! it is a bitter trial to me ; 
after all these years of looking forward to the time 
when you would be my wife to find everything 
broken up like a sudden shipwreck !” he exclaimed. 

‘‘ Don’t you see, John,” she said, laying her 
hand upon Lis arm, that if I were even willing to 
peril my faith and happiness by marrying you — 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


255 


which I am not — how impossible it would be for 
you, holding the opinions that you do, to marry a 
Catholic ?” 

“ It is true, Hope. I could not marry a Catholic. 
And here we are, just on the eye of our marriage, 
with a gulf as wide and as deep as death suddenly 
sprung between us. It is more than I can stand !” 

“The grace of God bridges over deeper and 
wider guKs than this,” she said in low tones, while 
her eyes filled with tears that she could not keep 
back. 

John Wilde got up and walked to and fro the 
room. The man’s anguish was very deep, the wo- 
man’s equally so, the difference being that hers 
was consecrated by a sublime spirit of sacrifice for 
the love of God, while his was the result of error 
and prejudice, the offshoot of old sectarian hate 
blended with a fear of the judgments of men. 

“ I can’t go away like this, Hope,” he said at 
last. “I will at least come and read that book 
with you, and see what shadow of excuse you have 
for your unaccountable change. I can do no more.” 

“ I have nothing else to offer, John. A religious 
change except from the very highest and best of 
motives, is like a house built upon the sands, or 
like a flower that springeth up in a night to wither 
at noontide. I have too great faith in your integ- 
rity of mind to believe that even for my sake you 


’256 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


would profess a creed which you could not sin- 
cerely believe.” 

No, not for your dear sake, Hope. But. some 
arrangement, some little yielding on both sides, 
may be possible !” he said standing before her. 

‘‘ Not on mine,” she said quickly, while a sudden 
paleness which overspread her face, succeeded by 
a crimson flushing, showed how the crucial tests, 
were hurting her nature. ‘‘ I can yield nothing, not 
to the smallest iota of my faith, either of dogma, 
precept, doctrine, or practice. Do not hope for 
that.” 

“ I hop© for nothing now,” he said wearily, as he 
lingered near her. Then pointing to the brooch 
and ring which lay upon her work-stand glistening 
in the sunshine, he added : ‘‘ Keep these at least, 
for my sake ;” and wringing her hand, almost 
crushing it in the grasp of his, he went away, but 
came back a moment after to tell her that he would 
come again the following evening to read with her. 


CHAPTEE XVni. 

» 

PATRICK m’CUE and HIS LETTERS. 

The foreign mail was in — an event of not very 
freqent occurrence forty years ago, as some will 
remember — and the Boston post-office was besieged 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


257 


/ 

by an expectant crowd which extended from the de- 
liver j-wdndow clear out to the sidewalk, all jostling 
and shouldering each other in their eagerness to 
get nearer and be the first to receive the letters they * 
hoped for. There were faces there full of expecta- 
tion — there were faces full of anxiety : some full of 
dread — others beaming with hope; the occasion 
formed a crisis in the moral life of many of them, 
out of which their real natures looked without con- 
ventional mask or veil, and it was a study to watch 
the eager countenances of them every emotion 
suddenly intensified, every eye moved wistful as the 
delivery- window was thrown open and the business 
of the day commenced. There were men who had 
sent ships loaded with priceless cargoes to sea, 
months and months ago, who had had no tidings 
from them — ships which had probably gone down 
in some of the terrific storms which had swept the 
world’s waters that winter of tempest and wreck — 
and now they stood waiting, hoping against hope, 
for tidings which would either add to their pros- 
perity or cripple their fortunes for years to come. 
There were others who had sent rich ventures to 
newly opened foreign ports, who knew that their 
ships had been spoken at sea, and knew that they 
were homeward bound with stores of “ golden 
fleece but weeks stretching into months had passed 
since they were due, and no word had come up from 


258 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


the deep ” concerning them. They also hoped to 
hear news of their argosies ; for if they had foun- 
dered and sunk it meant nothing more or less than 
utter ruin to them. There were others waiting — 
whose near and dear ones were travelling abroad, 
bearing with them in search of health the fading, 
perishing darling of the household — who now stood 
with lips firmly compressed, and bated breath, 
until the crowd thinning out a little, and almost 
thankful for the delay before they called for the 
letter so fraught with joy or dole to them ; for the 
last one that came told of increased pallor and fee- 
bleness, of quickened breath, and cheeks that were 
growing thinner and whiter every day. There were 
hard-faced, keen-eyed stock and money-brokers, 
eager for news from the Bourse and London Ex- 
change ; here were merchant-princes who had 
branches of their business in Paris, in London, in 
Bremen, in Cauion, and the Brazils, jostling against 
editors impatient for their foreign budget; there 
w^ere women whose eyes were bright with the hope 
of hearing good news from distant relatives, friends, 
husbands, brothers. Mixed up with them all were 
the poor emigrants mostly from Ireland and Ger- 
many, men and women almost dead with home- 
sickness and hungering for letters from over the 
sea as they had never hungered for food. 

But in this motley crowd there was only one with 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


259 


whom we have to do ; a tall, round-shouldered man 
with grizzly red hair and beard, who was plainly 
dressed in gray frieze and held a square basket 
upon his arm filled with packages — a basket which 
provoked many a sharp and muttered oath from 
those with whose ribs its corners came in contact. 
But the man could not help it ; he was jammed in 
the very thick of the crowd, and although he was 
better than half a head taller than any there, it 
gave him no advantage whatever, unless looking 
like a lighthouse amidst that surging sea of faces 
could be called one. But he was a good-humored 
genius, and now and then his jokes, full of pun- 
gency, and flavored with a generous brogue, created 
roars of laughter around him. At last, by dint of 
watching his opportunity and edging his way an 
inch at a time, he got to the window, and asked 
the tired, perspiring clerk if there was a letter for 
him. 

Name ?” growled the clerk. 

‘‘ Misthress Noona McCue, my own mother, God 
bless her, at Clanmoosie, County Meath, Ireland,” 
answered the man. 

“Is the letter for your mother ?” 

“ No, faith ! the letter I’m expecting is from the 
dear ould soul ; and I shall be sorely disappinted 
not to get it !” rephed the man, taking off his hat to 
mop his face. 


260 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“And what in the d , what’s yor-t name, 

man ?” shouted the exasperated clerk. 

“ Patrick McCue’s my name, and I’m not ashamed 
to own it !” 

“Well then, here’s a letter for you, Patrick 
McCue ; and next time you come to inquire for a 
letter, tell a fellow who it is to, not who it is from !” 
said the clerk, handing him a letter, but not the 
one he expected, as he afterwards found out. He 
could not get out, for the stream of people coming 
in was steadily increasing ; so, literally wedging 
himself back in an angle of the wall, and thrusting 
his basket down between his feet, he, all impatient 
to hear from the “ old mother at home,” tore open 
the letter and run his eye over the strange hand- 
writing, then read its contents. Wonder and joy 
struggled together in his homely countenance as he 
read ; then “ Glory be to God and the Blessed 
Virgin ” burst from his lips, and snatching up his 
basket, which he hoisted to the top of his head 
that he might get through the crowd more quickly, 
while he held his letter like some sacred trophy to 
his breast, he forced his way towards the door. 

“ Hilloa there !” shouted the clerk ; “ here’s an- 
other letter for Patrick McCue. From Ireland.” 

“ That’s from the mother of me — God bless her. 
Take good care of it, your honor. I’ll bd round for 
it this evening !” he shouted back. “ Converted ! ! 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


261 


jBy this and by that ! it’s aiqnal to the conversion 
of St. Paul: may he be promoted in glory. Up 
there, away amongst the icebergs and snow, wdth 
no more idea of the holy Catholic Faith than can- 
nibals, to be converted, and be after writin’ to me 
to get them Catholic books ! It bates Bannagher. 

And they hatin’ the sight of the cross, and call- 
ing me names, and talking to me as if I had just 
come up through the earth from the middle of Chiny 
and had never heard of Christianity in my life. 
Faith, and it’il do me good to send them books.” 
Patrick McCue was thinking aloud ; and everybody 
around him heard what he said, and thought him 
crazy, for his words sounded incoherent and with- 
out sense to them, and they moved as well as they 
could out of his way, by which means he soon 
reached the door. 

Of course you remember our old acquaintance, 
the pedler ? It was really he, and the letter which 
so excited him was the one written to him some 
weeks before by Wolfert Flemming. The news it 
contained almost overpowered him ; it seemed 
nothing short of miraculous. He had heard noth- 
ing of the Flemmings since he left their house 
months ago, and although he had never ceased 
praying for their conversion, the recollection of 
their hospitality and kindness was always embit- 
tered by the thought of their deeply-rooted hos- 


202 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


tility to his Holy Faith, and their undisguised con- 
tempt for the Cross and the Pope. And- now to 
get a letter from the grave, stern Puritan himself, 
telling him that ‘‘ he was converted to the Catholic 
Faith, and there was good hope for thinking his 
entire household would before long follow his ex- 
ample.” ‘‘ Why,” said Patrick McCue afterwards, 
“ it gave me a chill ; and you might have knocked 
me down with a feather, the surprise of it made 
me so wake.” But Patrick happily did not fall 
over, but managed to keep his feet and hold on to 
his basket beside, until he finally got clear of the 
post-office building and found himself standing in 
the street. Here he rested for a moment to draw in 
a few breaths of the cold wholesome air, then hur- 
ried away and did not stop until he came to a 
church, the door of which being open, he marched 
reverently up the empty aisle towards the rich altar, 
and prostrating himself before the Blessed Sacra- 
ment, offered with simple and fervent devotion his 
thanks to Almighty God for the conversion of his 
benefactors. Then rising he crossed over to a lat- 
eral altar, the altar of the Blessed Virgin, where 
he again knelt, and like a child thanking its mother 
for some unexpected happinesss, poured out his 
gratitude to her who had obtained the great boon 
of Faith for those for whom he had been so long 
praying. When he left the church there were 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


263 


great drops glistening on his grizzly beard which 
looked strangely hke tears ! 

‘‘ Thanks be to God !” said Patrick McCue, 
standing at the church door, still holding his hat 
in his hand and looking undecidedly up and down 
the street; ‘‘it is the wondherfullest thing, out an’ 
out, I ever came across, and I’m most at my wits’ 
end.” Then he fell to thinking, and presently ex- 
claimed, with a radiant countenance: “Now I’ve 
got it, surely ! I’ll go sthraight with my dilemma 
to the Bishop — may he be promoted forever — and 
get the favor of him to put down a list of the right 
kind of books, rale convincin’, tunderin’ books, 
that’ll knock the last bits of heresy that’s left in 
thim to smithereens.” And full of a zeal and joy 
which no language on earth can describe, for it 
belonged to the realms of the soul, Patrick McCue, 
still lugging his basket and holding the unfolded 
letter to his breast, went to the Bishop’s house. 

It was not a “ palace,” not even a “ mansion ;’’ it 
could scarcely be dignified with the title of “ resi- 
dence it was simply a plain old two-story brick 
house, not far from the cathedral, whose door-bell 
the poor and humble were not afraid to pull, whose 
threshold the sorrowful and poverty-stricken ones 
of his flock could cross without dread of pampered 
servants or w^orldly grandeurs, or the fear of a re- 
bujff from the prelate, who was indeed their good 


264 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


shepherd and faithful friend. The door of the 
dingy little library, which was filled with ancient 
and modern lore on abstruse questions in theology 
and philosophy, and many a treatise worth its 
weight in gold even according to worldly valuation, 
rich in volumes collected here and there from the 
old monasteries of Europe and Asia, some written 
in languages almost forgotten, besides some rare 
relics of early Christian literature — that door ever 
opened with Christianly w^elcome, admitted the 
lowly as well as the great, the sinner as well as the 
saint; and to each one the good Bishop listened 
patiently and sympathizingly ; and however great 
the needs of those who came to him for counsel, 
however hopeless those who came hither for aid, 
none ever turned from his presence without conso- 
lation. 

‘‘ Who is it, Dan ?” he would say, looking up per- 
haps from his polyglot, or perhaps from some of the 
deep sentences of Thomas Aquinas. Who is it 

‘‘ And it’s only a poor beggar-woman and a boy. 
Bishop ; hadn’t I betther tell her how busy ye 
are ?” returned Dan. 

“ Tell her to come in, poor soul; then fetch some 
coals in, and if I ring my bell bring in some bread 
and meat,” replied the Bishop, always amused at 
Dan’s tricks to secure him an hour’s quiet and at 
the same time save the household expenses. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


265 


“Faitli! I don’t know how your Grace’ll ever 
get through them hieroglypliics if everybody — Tom, 
Dick and Harry — ’s to come upon you whinever 
they like to,” Dan would mutter. “But it’s no 
use. I’ll take her and her brats in ; she’ll mako 
about the twentieth since the Bishop’s Mass ; all 
cornin’, cornin’, to impose upon the soft heart of 
him, and keepin’ him stript of money, and weariug 
old clothes not fit for a scarecrow. An’ I’ll get the 
bread and mate ready, for that bell’s sure to ring.” 

This was the Bishop’s way, and this was also the 
way of his old major-domo, Dan. 

Patrick McCue rang the door-bell and was ad- 
mitted without delay to the Bishop’s presence, his 
face beaming with dehght as he knelt to get his 
blessmg and kiss the consecrated ring upon the 
good prelate’s finger. 

“ I am glad to see you, my man ; but won’t you 
sit down ?” said the Bishop. 

“ Thanks to your lordship,” answered Patrick 
McCue ; “ an’ if you’ll kindly allow me to stand I 
think I can get through what I’ve come about 
better nor if I was sitting.” 

“ Very good, my friend ; but I think if you’ll 
notice what a short neck I have, and consider that 
it will be apt to give me a crick in it if I sit here 
looking up at you — why, man, you must be de- 
scended from the Kerry giants — ^you will take that 


266 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


chair beside you, just for the comfort of your poor 
Bishop,” said the Bishop. 

“ Faith, your Grace, if it would comfort ye I’d 
go and sit upon the top of the cathedral,” replied 
Patrick, dropping into the chair, confused and em- 
barrassed, and blushing all over his face and head. 

The good Bishop laughed ; he had gained his 
point ; then he said : “ Now — your name ?” 

“ McCue, your Grace !” 

“ Now, McCue, I am glad to see you, and you 
have made me very comfortable by sitting down 
when you are bid ; tell me what I can do for you ?” 

Then Patrick McCue handed Wolf ert Flemming’s 
letter to the Bishop, and with many digressions to 
the right and to the left told him about the Flem- 
mings and all that had happened up there in the 
winter. The Bishop listened patiently, picking out 
the kernel of the nut Patrick was so awkwardly 
cracking, until he fully understood the pith of the 
matter; and, deeply interested, he — as soon as 
McCue finished his narrative — opened the letter 
and read it from beginning to end. Then he said : 

“This is good news, excellent news, McCue. 
What do you wish me to do ?” 

“ Why, don’t you see, your Grace, that being an 
ignoramus, with nothing to boast of except my 
Faith and my country,! thought you’d know better 
about the books — ” stammered Patrick. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


267 


“ I see now. Yon wish me to make a list of the 
proper books for you ?” 

Just so, your Grace ; I mightn’t hit upon the 
right ones if I set about it myself.” 

“ You made a very good hit in leaving ‘ Milner’s 
End of Controversy’ with your Puritan friends. 
But I will of course write a list for you. You did 
right to come to me ; it was a wise thought, my 
child. God has honored you greatly in allowing 
you as it were to become the instrument of the 
salvation of these souls. Give Him thanks. I 
will not forget them, or you, in offering the Holy 
Sacrifice.” And the Bishop dipped his pen into 
his inkstand and wrote rapidly the titles of several 
books, and handed the list to Patrick McCue, who 
had sat watching him, and wishing that he might 
throw himself down and kiss the floor that the 
good man’s feet rested on, his great, tender Irish 
heart was so full and overflowing with those filial 
sentiments of reverence and affection towards his 
spiritual superior so well understood among Ca- 
tholics. 

“ Is there anything else I can do for you, my 
child r 

Yes. There was sjmething on Patrick’s mind 
yet, and waxing a little bold under the gracious 
and simple kindness of the Bishop’s manner, he 
determined to find out, if he could, what had been a 


268 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


mystery and puzzle to him ever since he had heard 
it ; and he began : There is, if your Grace will be 
so good — . But I’m thankful to see your lordship 
in such health ; may it continue.” 

‘‘ Thank you, Patrick ; but you know that ‘ the 
race is not always to the swift,’ nor the highest 
health to the fat,” said the Bishop, laughing. 
“ Now I’ll tell you a secret. I have not seen my 
own feet for five years, but for all that I have my 
aches and pains like the rest of the world.” 

‘‘It must be a great incumbrance to your Grace, 
so much fiesh ; and this ” — said the cunning Patrick 
— “ brings to my remimbrance something I’d be 
glad to be insensed* about, if your reverence won’t 
take the asking of it for impidince.” 

“Not at all, not at all, Patrick,” replied the 
Bishop, whose genial nature delighted in a little 
innocent recreation. “ Ask whatever you please.” 

“ Well, thin,” said McCue, assuming a most con- 
fidential attitude, while he screwed his courage up 
to the highest point, “ I’ve thought many a time, 
your Grace, seein’ how fieshy you are, how in the 
name of the world ye ever got up that long laddher, 
some time ago, to the loft where the two men were 
dyin’ with ship fever ?” 

The Bishop burst out laughing. He remem- 
bered it all : his fright as he clambered up the 
* Made sensible of. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


269 


steep creaking ladder, wondering after he got np 
how he should get down; and he remembered 
the two souls saved by his ministrations, whose 
pressing needs had made all perils to his own life 
or limb sink into insignificance. “ Upon my word, 
Patrick,” he said, “ I would tell you if I could ; but 
it has always been a mystery to me how I did get 
up there, and a greater one how I got down — the 
ladder creaked and swayed with my weight in such 
a way !” 

“ And it is a wondher, your grace, that it didn’t 
smash up with the weight of ye,” answered McCue, 
naively. “But that was nothing, your reverence, 
to the way you got down into the ould granite 
quarry to hear the confession of the man who kilt 
himseh and broke every bone in the skin of him ? 
I’d be thankful to know the way you reached 
him!” 

“ Oh ! well, well, my man ! there were some of 
your brave countrymen there, who with the assist- 
ance of Almighty God helped me to do His work. 
It was a tough job though, getting ' down to the 
poor mangled fellow, who died in my arms just 
after receiving the Holy Viaticum ; and I was a 
little out of breath when I got back ‘ out of the 
depths ’ of the quarry,” said the Bishop. 

“ And no wondher — God reward your lordship 
for your charity. It’s a meracle altogether, con- 


270 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


siderin’ the weight of you, how you got out of it 
ahve. And, faith, I shouldn’t be surprised if your 
grace could walk on the tight-rope itself if some 
poor soul at the other end of it should call for 
your assistance !” 

‘‘ God forbid such a thing happening !” said the 
good Bishop, diverted beyond measure at the gen- 
uine simplicity of the man. “ I should have to try> 
you know, at all risks, Patrick.” 

“ The Lord save us ! and deliver your reverence 
from all such divilthry as that. But I must be 
goin’,” said Patrick gravely, as he took his hat 
from under the chair, uncoiled his long legs and 
picked up his basket, standing before the good 
Bishop, who said : ‘‘ I should like to learn some- 
thing more of these converts, McCue; whenever 
you hear from them, come and let me know ; and 
don’t forget hereafter to call me what all my good 
children in Boston do, ‘ Father Ben.’ I like that 
above all. God bless you, my child.” And the 
Bishop gave him his blessing as he knelt before 
him, then he* went his ways feeling happier and 
more elated than he had ever been in his whole 
life. 

Without going home to rest, Patrick McCue 
trudged on a mile farther with his heavy basket to 
the then only Catholic bookstore in Boston, and, 
presenting the list written by the Bishop, was 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


271 


fortunate in getting all of the books he had recom- 
mended. Among them was a “ Catechism of the 
Council of Trent,” ‘‘Cochin on the Mass,” a Cath- 
olic praj^er-book, an “Imitation of Christ,” and 
several others. To these Patrick McCue added, of 
his own selection, “ The Papist Eepresented and 
Misrepresented ;” and “ The travels of an Irish 
Gentleman in Search of a Eeligion,” by his coun- 
tryman and favorite. Tommy Moore ; also a book 
on Catholic art, containing illustrations from the 
old masters ; this was “ for Eeuben, with Patrick 
McCue’s best love,” written upon the fly-leaf ; then 
he bought a rosary and prayer-book for Hope, and 
a crucifix and prayer-book for Eva, all duly di- 
rected on the parcels, and signed “ Patrick McCue, 
with his respects.” Then, feeling still better satis- 
fied with himself, he wended his way back to his 
little shop, where he sold wares of every sort and 
description, a sort of enlarged pedler’s pack, out 
of which he was coining honest profits ; and then 
he packed the books and his presents, along with 
the bookseller’s receipt and the change left over^ 
and prolonged his delight by putting twice as 
many nails in the top of the box and hammering 
upon them just twice as long as was necessary, un- 
til finding there was danger of splitting it to pieces 
he threw down his hammer and got the black 
paint and brush to label it ; and his delight was 


272 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


pleasant to see, as with an indescribable flourish 
he wrote name and address upon the lid as if 
every letter meant a blessing. Then when he 
closed his shop and shouldered the box, and could 
do nothing more to it, he locked up, strode down 
to the stage-office wuth it, prouder of his burden 
than he would have been of a field-marshal’s 
baton. And he gave so many directions and 
charges about the safety of the box, that the stage- 
driver, bothered and exasperated, threatened not 
to take it at all if he ‘‘ didn’t hold his jaw and be 
off.” 

Then Patrick gave in, and stood off at a safe 
distance, watching it with jealous eyes until the 
stage drove off and was out of sight; then he 
stuffed his hands into his pockets and went home- 
wards, whistling The Blackbird ” like a fife, and 
thinking he would be glad to get his dinner, having 
eaten nothing since six o’clock that morning — and 
it was then four. “ Bedad !” he thought, “ but it’s 
a day of days, surely ; and the last jig of it is the 
letter I’ll get to-night from the ould mother, God 
bless her, that’s lying waitin’ for me at the post- 
office.” And the thought of it so lightened his 
heart that he scarcely felt the ground under his 
feet as he hurried along. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


273 


CHAPTEE XIX. 

SOEKOWS AKE NOT ACCIDENTS. 

As he had promised her, John Wilde came al- 
most every evening to read ‘‘ Milner’s End of Con- 
troversy” with Hope, and occasionally had long, 
grave talks with Wolfert Flemming himseK on the 
subject ; but as yet he had found nothing in it all 
to make him feel even for a moment willing to 
abandon his own religious principles for others 
which seemed, to his comprehension, no better. 
He was, he firmly believed, a converted man, pos- 
sessed of that inward light against which it was 
impossible for a true believer to err ; of what use 
would it be then” — he argued— “to be running 
after novelties in faith, which already perplex and 
disturb my mind. Simple gospel doctrines are 
good enough for me ; and I cannot, if I would, go 
against my conscience, even for the sake of Hope.” 
It is true that the man’s mind had become some- 
what enhghtened, and the great scarecrow which 
Protestants call “Popery” was quite torn down 
and demohshed in his sight, while he had nearer 
and better views of the True Faith ; indeed, he 
frankly admitted that the Flemmings had good 
reasons to show for their change of faith ; but the 
best and only result attained by him was that hq 


274 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


had come to look upon the Catholic religion as a 
Christian sect — a great advance for a Puritan of 
that day — and could not see why such difficulties 
should be raised about the marriage of himself and 
Hope. Seeing the daily life of the Flemmings, 
and noting their righteous, cheerful way of life, and 
how the inward peace of their souls permeated 
every act and word and thought — making their re- 
ligion, without any self-assertion on their part, in- 
tegral with their very existence — he could not for 
the life of him see the wide guK that separated 

them, and quite lost sight of his dread of all the 
unhappiness which would inevitably result from a 
union where there was such a wide difference of 
religious belief. The more he was with them, the 
more consoled he inwardly felt ; and finally made 
up his mind, if Hope would consent to marry him 

then, just to trust to Providence, leaving all re- 
ligious discussions out of the question, and yield- 
ing everything to her except his own individual be- 
lief. He told her as much, in good, manly faith, 
but she gave no assent to the plan, and the little 
she did say quite discouraged him. About this 
time the Elders and the Deacons of his sect, led 
on by old Father Pay, began to make his time un- 
comfortable by the way they felt moved to take his 
affahs in hand. They rebuked and counseled liim 
in season and out of season, in private and in pub- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


275 


lie ; his being so mucli with the Fleminings was in 
itself a grave offense, but when it got to be known 
that he was reading their Popish books and spend- 
ing hours at a time in religious conversation with 
the banned ex-Elder, they threatened roundly to 
turn him out of meeting if he did not speedily 
mend his ways. Then John Wilde’s spirit was up, 
and he told them plainly that “ they might do as 
they pleased. No earthly consideration could 
make him a Roman Catholic ; but if Hope Flem- 
ming would marry him, not all the world should 
prevent it. He was a staunch believer in the doc- 
trines of the Westminster Catechism and in simple 
gospel teachings, and saw no prospect now or 
henceforth of ever having any other belief, and 
with that they must remain satisfied and not med- 
dle with him or his affairs.” They did not judi- 
cially meddle with him again, but they did not ex- 
actly let him alone ; they made him feel in a thou- 
sand ingenious ways that he was, as it were, under 
a ban ; their intercourse with him, once so friendly 
and cordial, became cold and formal ; he saw him- 
seff actually shunned on certain occasions, and 
more than twice or thrice he had to sit in the old 
meeting-house and hear sermons preached at him, 
prayers prayed at him, and hymns sung at him, 
until, half beside himself, he was tempted to fling 
his hat on his head and march out from among 


276 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


them. But conscious of his own religious integ- 
rity, these vexations, while they stung and irritated 
him, did not make him waver a hair’s-breadth from 
his own spiritual standpoint. The hardest trial of 
all to the true, tender heart of the man were the 
pleadings and tears of his own mother, whose 
fears, excited and exaggerated by all the things she 
heard from Father Bay, Deacon Sneathen, Miss 
Deborah, and others of the like sort, made her al- 
most give up her boy as lost. Then John Wilde 
realized something of Job’s trials in having his 
friends and kinsmen and those of his own house 
stirred up against him, treating him like a sinner 
and backslider, when he was never more faithful 
and firm in his religious belief since his conversion 
than at that time. “ If I could only believe as the 
Flemming’s do,” he said one day hotly to his 
mother, I’d stand this no longer ; but I can’t — 
I couldn’t believe those doctrines to save my life. 
I almost wish I could, for the sake of peace and 
my own happiness. But for all that, if Hope — 
Eomanist though she be —will consent, I shall 
marry her, come what will.” And constant to his 
purpose, he went straight down to the Old Home- 
stead,” and asking to see Hope alone, proposed to 
her to marry him without any further delay. But 
she, who had been thinking long and prayerfully 
over the matter, weighing all that was for and 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


277 


against it in her own clear mind, had come, with 
many a sharp pang, to the deliberate conclusion 
that it would be best for the happiness of them both 
that all should be finally over between them ; and 
so she told him, her cheeks blanching whiter and 
whiter, and her eyes overfiowing with tears she 
tried in vain to keep back as she spoke. 

You do not mean this, Hope ; surely you do 
not mean it ?” he said, utterly shocked and sur- 
prised. 

‘‘I mean it; every word of it. Let us part, 
John ; for from this moment all that has ever been 
between us must be over.” The effort she made to 
speak firmly imparted a sternness to her manner 
and a severity to her words which gave the coup de 
grace to the man’s hopes, putting an end to all his 
torture of uncertainty and confiict with himself. 
Angry and grieved, thinking but little or nothing 
of her sacrifice, only knowing how earnestly she 
meant what she said, he got up to leave her with- 
out a friendly word or a clasp of the hand. Stand- 
ing before her for an instant, his hat crushed in his 
hand, he said in a low, harsh tone, almost choked 
with emotion: “You have ruined my hfe, Hope 
Flemming, unless God helps me. I have done all 
and promised all that lay in the scope of my power 
to do or promise, and you have trodden my great 
love under foot, sacrificed me to a fanaticism I 


278 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


cannot understand.” Then, dumb and helpless, 
sick at heart but strong in the will to do what was 
right, she did not speak ; and he went away. The 
next that Hope Flemming heard of her lover, he 
was on his way to visit the far off lands beyond the 
ocean. 

Eeligion does not avert grief or its sting; it 
shields us neither from cross or loss, or the cruci- 
fictions of nature, but it has a sweet distilling balm 
for the faithful soul who seeks strength and resig- 
nation in it, leading her through the fiery ordeals 
unscathed, where her dross and imperfections are 
consumed, and heals at last the deep wounds of her 
life which have elevated her to heights near heaven. 
Sorrows are not accidents ; they form the very 
woof which is woven into the warp of life. They 
develop the soul’s life ; and every son of man who 
would attain the true end of his being must be 
baptized with fire. “ It is,” writes one,* “ the law of 
our humanity, as that of Christ, that we be per- 
fected through suffering ; and he who has not dis- 
cerned the divine sadness of sorrow, and the pro- 
found meaning which is concealed in pain, has yet 
to learn what life is. The Cross, manifested as the 
necessity of the highest life, alone interprets it.” 

Hope Flemming’s heart was sorely tried, as we 
may imagine ; but her new faith, upon whose altar 


Eobertson. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


279 


she had laid her sacrifice, taught her where to seek 
for consolation and help. And the pain of her 
trial was neither light or fieeting; it paled her 
cheeks, it took the brightness out of her eyes' and 
the elasticity from her step for many a long day, 
leaving the peace of her soul undisturbed by re- 
grets and strengthened by the consciousness of a 
pure intention. 

Of course this sudden breaking up of Hope’s 
prospects added much to the cup of Mrs. Flem- 
ming’s bitterness, and she said words that had 
been better left unsaid — unwise, unmotherly w^ords, 
that thinking them over almost made the girl be- 
lieve that her mother’s reason was temporarily un- 
settled by her troubles. They had all, from the 
father down, been very tender with the poor little 
mother, bearing all that she said and did with 
sweet patience, knowing how honestly she thought 
they were wrong and she right, and what good rea- 
son — in her own opinion — she had to feel sore and 
troubled — in fact, what real trials and cares had 
come upon her through their confession of the 
Catholic Faith; but, so far, it had not appeared to 
soften her; she went about her daily domestic 
tasks as she had been doing all her life, never 
omitting the shghtest minutiae, and attending with 
scrupulous care to the individual comforts and 
needs of each one of her household, and ordering 


280 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


all things with care and neatness ; there was no 
diminution of any comforts her husband and 
children and servants had been accustomed to, 
except that she became rigidly economical in the 
table expenses, and they missed the old cheerful 
ring of her voice singing over her work, and her 
quiet, decisive tones heard here and there and 
everywhere through the house ; she was very 
silent nowadays, and only answered them in mono- 
syllables when they tried to get her to talk with 
them. 

None of them had ever known such hard, plain 
fare in their lives ; but the Flemmings were of a 
strong, healthful race, and did not mind that — 
none of them except Nicholas, who was growling 
one day over his dinner when Mrs. Flemming broke 
out with : 

‘‘We are too poor now, Nicholas, to waste things 
in luxurious living. If people could only be satis- 
fied without running after newfangled notions, 
much trouble would be spared in the world. As a 
man makes his bed so he must lie. You’ve all 
turned Papists, and must bear the consequences.” 

This was more than the little woman had said 
for a long time, and Nicholas not knowing exactly 
what answer to make, took a stick, and his knife 
out of his pocket, and began to whittle, whistling 
under his breath at the same time. If he had not 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


281 


finished his dinner he would have fallen to and 
tried everything before him ; for he dearly loved 
his mother, and would have done anything in his 
sturdy, awkward way to restore her peace of mind 
even for a moment ; but he was quite at a loss for 
something to say which would not make matters 
worse, but could think of nothing, and whittled 
and whistled in a low sybilant undertone until the 
table was cleared away, and he was left sitting in 
the middle of the floor with a little heap of shav- 
ings at his feet, which his mother was about sweep- 
. ing into a dust-pan, stooping over with the veins in 
her forehead swollen and full, when he sprang up, 
gathered her suddenly in his great arms, kissed 
her Hps and cheeks, and carried her to her chair, 
where he sat her down all amazed and out of 
breath at such doings; then, before she could 
speak, he had snatched the dust-pan and brush 
out of her hands, cleared up every vestige of the 
litter he had made, and vanished out of the side 
door down the garden path. Mrs. Flemming’s 
first impulse was to box Nicholas, her next was to 
daugh outright — it was all so ridiculous; but she 
did neither, and her face settled back into its grim, 
rigid lines again, although in her heart she was 
warmed and pleased with the rough caressing of 
her “ bear,” as she sometimes in the old days used 
to call him. 


282 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


It’s a comfort that he at least has something to 
look forward to,” thought his mother, looking after 
him as he disappeared down the garden path ; 

but it’s all owing to Huldah’s indiflference to gos- 
pel truth and her determination to marry him in 
spite of everything. And Huldah will be very rich 
when her father dies. The Deacon holds only a 
life estate in the property, which comes to her 
from her mother. His control over it is absolute ; 
she can’t get a penny of it, if he chooses to keep 
her out of it now ; but she and Nick don’t mind 
waiting, for they’ll have it all some day.” And 
these hard, practical thoughts of her son’s good 
prospects came now and then through the dark- 
ness that surrounded her, like sunrays through the 
clouds of a stormy sky, comforting and somewhat 
consoling the poor httle woman. 

* Mrs. Flemming went to meeting every Sabbath, 
the chaise driven by Beuben, who dutifully at- 
tended pubhc worship with her; she, with her 
stern, sorrowful face, intent only on the religious 
exercises that were going on, and trying in this her 
hour of trial to quench her thirst from cisterns that 
held no water, and receiving stones instead of 
bread, for which the hungry soul was starving ; 
Beuben, indifferent to all around him, not caring a 
straw, in fact, where he went on Sabbath, so that 
he could go on dreaming out his dream unmo- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


283 


I 


lested — and behaving so strangely, standing up 
when he should have knelt, kneeling when he 
should have sat, and breaking out in shrill falsetto 
notes when he should have sung in solemn tune, 
that Deacon Sneathen and others declared the boy 
was crazy. And his absurd awkwardness to set 
things right when a touch of his mother’s hand, 
or the astonished glance of some one near him, or 
the sharp whisper of some indignant Pharisee, re- 
called him to himself, did make him appear just a 
little flighty ; but Eeuben was not crazy, and these 
were only the symptoms cropping out of the mys- 
tery of his life, about which he was dreaming and 
thinking all the time. 

So it came to pass that while all the rest of the 
Flemmings were banned and morally outlawed, 
Mrs. Flemming got to be looked upon as a suffer- 
ing saint, and her old friends and neighbors always 
collected around her after meeting to show by their 
sympathetic greetings and outspoken speeches 
about her heavy trials, and their uncouth attempts 
to console, which only probed and tortured instead 
of comforting her, that whatever they might feel 
towards the rest of her family their friendly in- 
terest in her was unchanged. But she received all 
of their demonstrations with a stiff reserve which 
astonished them, and had even seemed to resent 
Father Kay’s praying publicly for her as one under 


284 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


heavy tribulation. She wanted none of their pity ; 
whatever she had a right to do and think about her 
own flesh and blood, she couldn’t stand by and see 
them outlawed, persecuted, and ruined in fortune 
and estate, and shake hands over it all with those 
who did it, knowing all the time in her inmost 
heart that there was not a man among them whose 
walk before God was so pure and upright as her 
husband’s. It became clear to them all, after 
awhile, that she neither wanted their sympathy 
nor adulation, and they began to understand that 
she came constantly to meeting, not to keep in 
favor with them, but because she thought it right 
and consistent for her to do so. But they pitied 
her none the less, and said all manner of kind 
things of her over their tea-cups, and some of them 
even went so far as to go and see her to tell her 
how her friends felt for her ; but old Lady Pen- 
darvis herself, could she have stept out of her 
frame, could not have been more frigid and reticent 
than her Puritan descendant, Martha Plemming, 
and when her guests went away she did not invite 
them to come again. She preferred fighting out 
her battle alone; with the instincts of a wild 
animal she hid herseh, wishing none to see her 
wounds. 

Soon after John Wilde left the country George 
Merill came up from Boston, fired with indigna- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


285 


tion and full of great intentions. His grandfather 
had written him a long letter giving him a particu- 
lar account of all that had happened at the “ Old 
Homestead,” and of the present status, moral, tem- 
poral and social, of the family, hoping that it 
would put to flight forever any thought his grand- 
son might still have of seeking Eva Flemming for 
his wife. But he did not know the young fellow, 
who, leaving his constant devotion for Eva out of 
the question, had become during his residence at 
the “ Hub ” a something that was half Pagan, half 
Unitarian — whose strange tenets allowed a scope 
of liberality towards other creeds which was 
boundless ; hence he did not care a twig for Eva’s 
being a Catholic; but he did care, and took it 
sorely to heart, when he heard from his friend and 
ally, Huldah Sneathen, who wrote him an astonish- 
ing letter, all the particulars of the social interdict 
laid on his old friends, and how nearly they were 
ruined. She told him, too, of the trap which her 
father and aunt were laying for him ; “ but the cun- 
ning old souls might as well save their time for 
something better ; for you know, George, even if I 
were not engaged to Nick Flemming, whose very 
footprints I love, I wouldn’t marry you to save 
’your life.” George Merill burst out laughing; 
then he thought of the Flemmings and swore a 
little, ended by pitching some of his city clothes 


286 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


into a valise and starting right off for the hill 
country, where he arrived about dusk the following 
day, and swinging his valise in his hand walked up 
to the ‘‘ Old Homstead.” Near the house he met 
Mrs. Flemming, who had been to see her old 

help,” Sarah Gill, who was bedridden and had 
got a palsy of the head from the shock of hearing 
suddenly that Elder Flemming and his children had 
turned Papists, and spent her time relating her as- 
tounding dreams, which she called visions,” and 
telling of “ death-watches ” and mysterious tap- 
pings, and a “ grief child ” which appeared to her 
whenever she fell into a doze — “ all signs and won- 
ders,” she declared — rising out of the dretful 
doings down yonder,” meaning the Old Homestead. 

When Mrs. Flemming saw George Merill, a sud- 
den hope took possession of her which brightened 
her eyes and brought a warm glow over her pale, 
thin face, making her look ten years younger ; but 
there was little quivering of her lips as she held 
out her hand and said : ‘‘ George, I am very glad 
to see you.” 

“ I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Flemming,” he 
said, grasping her hand warmly. “ I was just on 
my way to your house. I only jumped out of the 
stage a little while ago, you see,” he added, swing- 
ing his valise round. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


287 


“ You haven’t been up to the Minister’s, then ! 
I do wonder ?” answered Mrs. Flemming. 

‘‘ No. My grandfather and I are sure to quarrel 
when we meet ; and, as I must go back to-morrow, 
I thought I’d see what awaited me here before I 
have my set-to up there. How are they all, Mrs. 
Flemming ?” 

“ All well — ^in health,” she added. 

“ And Eva ! I have come to see her ; is she at 
home ?” 

“ Yes, Eva is at home.” 

You see, Mrs, Flemming,” said the young fellow, 
full of his generous, unselfish love, holding her 
hand in his, “ I have heard all about the row there’s 
been up here, and how the godly brethren have be- 
haved to the Elder, and I left everything to come 
and ask Eva once more if she will marry me. I 
have to go back to-morrow ; I have a case coming 
up in court in a few days and shall have to hurry 
off to be there in time.” 

“ I can promise you nothing, George,” answered 
Mrs. Flemming. ‘‘ You know our house is divided 
against itself now ; I am a cipher as to influence. 
But come in, and go into the parlor ; I will send 
Eva to you. I wish you well, I am sure, if you 
don’t mind her being a Pa a Eoman Catho- 

lic.” 

“ I shouldn’t mind it if she were a Pagan ; she 


288 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


could never be anything but Eva to me,” he replied, 
as they entered the house together. 

Go into the parlor. I will send Eva in,” re- 
peated Mrs. Flemming, as she went into the old 
part of the house in search of Eva, who was in her 
bedroom tacking up the clean, snowy window-cur- 
tains — ^just from under the iron — over the windows- 

“ Some one is in the parlor wishing to see you, 
Eva,” said Mrs. Flemming, just putting her head 
into the door, then going directly away — almost 
feeling mean, for this was the first deception she 
had ever practiced in her hfe ; but the hope of the 
good that might come of it reconciled and quieted 
her conscience. 

Eva, who had no thought of George Merill in 
her mind, put in the last tack, looped back the cur- 
tains, and hastily smoothing back her curling hair 
and tying on a nice black silk apron, ran down 
stairs, her sweet face fiushed and illuminated with 
a smile of welcome ; but when she opened the par- 
lor door and saw who her guest was, her first im- 
pulse was to draw back and go away without speak- 
ing ; the smile faded out of her face, and a grave, 
almost a stern expression settled on her counte- 
nance ; but the Flemmings, as we know, had nice 
ideas of hospitality, and would not have infiicted a 
rudeness upon their greatest enemy under the sanc- 
tuary of their own roof ; so she went in, and with- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


289 


out any word of welcome, shook hands with him, 
asked him how he was, and sat down in the chair 
he placed for her. He soon let her know what had 
brought him there, and she listened patiently to all 
he had to say. Touched by the constancy of his 
affection, and his generous devotion, unlike the 
spirit of the little world around her, Eva hesitated 
a moment in answering him — hesitated, because she 
shrunk from giving only pain in return for all that 
he offered ; then in a sweet, womanly way put an 
end to his hopes, saying : ‘‘ I am sorry to inflict 
pain, as I am conscious I shall do, but the only an- 
swer that I can give you, George, is what — ” 

“ Before you say any more, Eva,” he interrupted, 
listen to all that I have to say. I know what has 
happened up here relative to your having become 
Boman Catholics, all of you, and there may be 
something in your mind on that score. But let no 
thought of the religious difference between us 
influence your decision, for I tell you honestly, be- 
fore God, that I’d as lief my wife should be a 
Eoman Catholic as anything else ; in fact it would 
take but little, I think, to bring me over; but 
whether I am brought over or not there should not 
be the impediment of a straw laid in your path, 
and a portion of my fortune should go towards 
^building and decorating churches of your faith, if 
it would iQake you any happier.” 


290 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


He had spoken rapidly and earnestly ; it was 
evident that he meant every word he uttered, and 
in proportion to his generosity so did her repug- 
nance to give him pain increase ; but he must be 
answered, and Eva said : 

“ I believe all that you have said, George — every 
word. You are worthy of the devotion of a true 
and noble nature like your own; but as for me, 
the only answer that I can give you is what I told 
you before, I shall never marry — be assured of that, 
and some day, perhaps not far distant, you will un- 
derstand much that seems heartless to you now, and 
your generous soul will give me full pardon. I 
shall never forget you, my brother, and shall pray 
that your nobleness of soul be rewarded tenfold. 

I thank you for coming — yes, thank you for coming 
in this the hour of our trial, when other friends and 
neighbors stand aloof — and doing that which, while 
it convinces me that there does exist in the world 
noble unselfishness an4 true constancy, would bring 
only blame and derision upon yourself. But let us 
part — part as friends ; and if prayers will help you, 
mine shall abide with you as a shield and defence 
through life.” 

There w’as a strange, bright calm brooding over 
the girl’s beautiful face as she held out her hand to 
him, and the tears that sparkled on her long eye- 
lashes and rolled over her cheeks had a deeper sig- * 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


291 


nificance than he could fathom then ; but he 
knew that it was all over now, and with a sudden 
impulse he leaned over and kissed her forehead, 
saying : Just this once, Eva ; it is the seal on the 
sepulchre of my dearest hopes. Ours is a long 
farewell and it will take a tedious time to smooth 
away the remembrance of this — to me — bitter 
parting. I cannot understand you, Eva ; but good- 
by — it is useless to defer going,” he said, holding 
out his hand. 

Good-by, my friend and brother,” she answered, 
as he wrung her hand and then passed away out 
of her sight, a saddened and disappointed man. 

‘‘Is George Merill gone, Eva?” inquired Mrs. 
Flemming, an hour or so later. 

“Yes, mother. We parted as friends, nothing 
more,” she answered. “He has gone back to 
Boston.” 

“ I hope you won’t live to repent it,” replied 
Mrs. Flemming. “ You and Hope have made a 
nice mess of it : such prospects as you both had.” 

“Try and be patient over it, dear mother. I 
trust that you will see it all come out right at last. 
You will at least keep your daughters the longer.” 

“Nonsense. My daughters are like other wo- 
men, and should be settled for life in comfortable 
homes of their own ; and I am like other mothers, 
and would be glad when my last hours come, to 


292 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


know tliat they have husbands to protect them and 
their own roof to shelter them. I don’t understand 
all this newfangled, romantic nonsense.” Having 
thus delivered herself, the disappointed little wo- 
man went away to solace herself with reading a 
chapter out of ‘‘ Fox’s Book of the Martyrs,” and 
thought fire and sword would be better than the 
slow torture she had been enduring for months. 

That night the stage left Patrick McOue’s box of 
books at Wolfert Flemming’s door, and it was 
taken into the ‘‘ work-room,” where, after the rest 
of the family had retird to rest, he opened it and 
spent half the night examining its contents, re- 
joicing over the treasures it contained, with far 
greater joy than he would have experienced had it 
been filled with the costliest jewels on earth. Here 
was all he wanted until he should experience the 
reward of Faith in the substance of things hoped 
for — until the supreme moment when, being made 
outwardly as well as inwardly a member of the 
true fold of Christ, he would receive the ‘‘Bread of 
Life” for which his soul had been so long hunger- 
ing. And how strangely had Providence favored 
him even in this ! It had seemed to him some- 
times like a most haphazard proceeding to have 
written and sent a money-letter to a man whose 
business made him a very nomad, and who might 
never have seen Boston since he left the hill-coun- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


293 


try ; Wolf ert Flemming felt at sucli moments as if 
his wife was justifiable in Calling it, with some 
sharp remarks, not only ‘‘a foolish proceeding,” 
but “ a sinful throwing away of money.” But, as 
we know, Patrick McCue had got the letter, and 
here were the books, a bill and receipt, and the 
right change to a fraction. 

Mrs. Flemming knew that the books had come, 
from seeing Keuben unwrapping and examining 
those sent him by the pedler, who ^would have 
been somewhat astonished if he had seen the boy 
lay carelessly aside The Travels of an Irish Gen- 
tleman in Search of a Eeligion,” by ‘‘ Tommy 
Moore,” and began to read, nay, to devour with 
feverish avidity, the book illustrative of “ Art in 
Catholic Ages.” Was she never to hear the last of 
that pedler, who had brought her such dole ? Was 
he to be forever coming up in some shape or other 
to torment her ? She began to think so. 

The next morning Mrs. Flemming in brushing 
up and putting things to rights in the ‘‘work- 
room,” a labor of love which she had always re- 
served for herself, and still continued, gathered up 
a heap of rubbish strewed over the floor, in which 
the books had been packed, and was going to 
throw it into the wood-box for kindlings, when she 
felt something smooth and hard strike against her 
hand, something heavier than the straw and shav- 


294 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


ings slie held, and upon examining she discovered 
that it was a small leather-bonnd book, which she 
involuntarily opened, led by instinctive curiosity 
and a natural desire to see what it was. “ The 
Papist Eepresented and Misrepresented,” she read 
in a low voice. Here are two sides at last, and I 
will read it to see if there is any reason in it.” She 
thrust the book hastily into her pocket, determined 
— as it had been evidently overlooked and acci- 
dently dropped — to say nothing about it, until, 
having satisfied her curiosity, she would lay it 
among her husband’s papers, leaving him to dis- 
cover it the best way he could. 


CHAPTEE XX. 
woLFEET Flemming’s biethday 

Mrs. Flemming read the little book she had 
found among the litter of the ‘‘ work-room ; ” she 
carried it about with her in her pocket, for fear 
some of them should accidentally see it, and took 
the opportunity now and then to slip up into her 
bedroom, after supper, and read it while her hus- 
band and children were reading the books sent by 
Patrick McCue, reading them as thirsty travellers 
in the desert drink from a suddenly discovered 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


295 


fountain beneatli tile shadow of broad-spreading 
palms. Up there alone, like- a sparrow on the 
house-top,” she read it with alternate emotions of 
fierce satisfaction and uncomfortable doubts, for it 
here represents the Catholic religion according to 
Protestant ideas, there represents it to the reader 
as it truly is, in all its wonderful simplicity and 
sublime truth. The first pleased her throughout 
her whole Puritan nature ; the second she would 
have dismissed from her thoughts and entirely ig- 
nored if she could ; but it was impossible — the an- 
tithesis left an impression upon her which she 
could not get rid of, and like a moral pendulum 
kept her mind vibrating from side to side, wonder- 
ing if, after all, the Catholic version of the question 
was right. But she kept her secret bravely ; and 
the result of it all was that she was made more 
bitter by her resistance to the truth and the men- 
tal disturbance that it occasioned her. 

* She had grown, in a measure, accustomed to the 
strange order of things about her ; and, although 
silent and grave, could not altogether stand out 
against the patient and loving forbearance of her 
husband and children towards her. She had lost 
none of their love — and was thankful for that ; and 
her heart was touched to its inmost core by their 
constant endeavor to express it in all the varied 
circumstances of their daily life. She watched 


296 


0 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


with jealous eye for something on their part which 
would bring a scandal on their new profession and 
offer her a salient point of attack ; but she watched 
in vain — for not only were their lives pure and 
without guile, but their unaffected cheerfulness and 
their constant devotion tolierself made her feel very 
often that she was making herself miserable with- 
out just cause. Never before had Mrs. Flemming 
seen religion more beautifully exemplified than in 
the daily lives of her husband and children ; never 
had she seen trials borne with so sweet a patience 
or with such noble courage ; never had she seen in 
all her life until now the active fruits of a true 
spiritual life, ripening in the eternal sunshine of a 
true faith. She could not understand it ; and do 
what she might, she could find nothing to sweeten 
the bitter fact that the beings she most loved on 
earth were Papists. On the other hand, without 
the remotest idea of following their example, she 
felt with the deepest resentment the treatment her 
husband and family had met with from her brethren 
— their life-long friends and neighbors. “One 
would suppose,” she would think to herself, after 
mentally summing up her grievances, “ that they 
had committed murder or theft.” And now that 
this httle waif of a book kept her constantly drift- 
ing out among doubts and fears which fevered her 


THU FLEMMINGS. 


297 


very soul, the poor little woman felt that she was 
literally between two fires. 

We don’t wish the reader to suppose that Woh 
fert Flemming and his daughters lived in a state of 
ecstasy, lifted high above the reach of the trials 
and anxieties which had gathered and were still 
gathering about them — for they were human, and 
felt the splinters of their cross, and their spirits 
sometimes sunk within them ; indeed we do not 
know but that there were moments when they 'were 
tempted to look back into Egypt, with its fleshpots 
savory with garhck and sweet-smelling herbs ; but 
their faith was strong ; it was “ like an anchor, 
sure and steadfast” to their souls, and helped them 
to rise when they fell — to look away from the sav- 
ory messes of Egypt, with hope, towards the man- 
na of eternal life; to bear, with their s^d faces 
turned towards the eternal goal whose far-off lights 
cheered their souls, the wounds that tortured them, 
without complaint — and, in the name of God, 
‘‘ fight the good fight ” which would in the end per- 
fect them in patience. They found the Catholic 
religion no shield against human or spiritual trials ; 
but it taught them how to bear the thorny passes 
of life, and how to sanctify their nature by sub- 
mission to the Divine will, and where to find con- 
solation and peace when the earthly reed on which 
they leaned broke and pierced them. Their faith, 


298 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


for which they suffered, did not allow the fountain 
from which they drank to remain always bitter, 
but, like the prophet of old, when they were faint- 
ing with thirst, threw in immortal leaves which 
sweetened the waters, giving them strength and re- 
freshment. And they cheered and held up each 
other’s hands, never allowing a despondent word 
to escape their lips, or a despondent cloud to 
shadow their faces. 

And the weeks passed on, bringing new trials 
and worries. The season, which had commenced 
with such rare and genial mildness that the farmers, 
beguiled by its seductive W’armth, had planted and 
sown, and were rubbing their hands together with 
delight over their prospective crops, suddenly be- 
came cold and wet. Bain fell constantly, and 
rotted the seed in the ground, and there was a 
doubt among them if they would save enough of 
their crops to supply their own domestic needs. 
The inclement, unseasonable weather brought a 
strange and fatal disease among the cattle, which 
killed off hundreds of them, to the great distress 
and loss of their owners. Huldah Sneathen’s beau- 
tiful white heifer, around whose sleek neck she de- 
lighted to hang garlands of wild flowers, and feed 
with the daintiest clover and nicest morsels, died, 
and she was crying over it, thinking no one saw 
her when her Aunt Debby’s sharp voice interrupted 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


299 


her tears, saying : ‘‘ I admire to see you, Huldy ! 
Get up, and come away from that critter ; you’ll 
be sure to catch the pison. I b’lieve the Lord has 
cussed the land for the sin of them down yonder” 
— pointing towards the ‘‘ Old Homestead.” 

“Go away. Aunt Debby, and let me be,” said 
Huldah, flashing round her flushed, tear-stained 
face upon the spinster ; “ and don’t go on making 
such a fool of yourself. If anything’s brought a 
curse on the land, it’s the treatment you pharisees 
have given them ‘ down yonder and take care the 
Lord don’t condemn the Pharisee and commend 
the poor publican, as He did once before. Go 
away, and let me and my heifer alone.” And Miss 
Debby sniffed and went her way, knowing by ex- 
perience that it was no use for her to say anything 
more, or stay looking on ; but she would have 
relished above all things giving Huldah a sound 
box on her ears before she went ; her Angers 
tingled to do it, but this was a luxury she could 
never hope to enjoy again, and she had to make 
the best of it she could. 

Wolfert Flemming did not lose more than his 
neighbors ; but the debt hanging over him and the 
unexpected breaking up of his business made his 
losses bear more heavily upon him. He was deter- 
mined not to sell if he could help it ; but how he 
was to help it he could not tell. If he could have 


300 


•3 HE FLEMMINGS. 


foreseen all tins, lie would not liave used up his ready 
money and gone into debt in maldng the improve- 
ments about his place and adding to his lands ; 
but he never dreamed of such difficulties, and knew 
at the time that the profits of his business, steadily 
increasing, would extricate him certainly in three 
years from all indebtedness; but here he was 
stranded high and dry, without an idea of how he 
should get afloat once more. He would try hon- 
estly to hold by his own, and if all efforts failed he 
would give up everything rather than wrong any 
man. Some months lay before him, and if his 
creditors were not disposed to persecute him on 
account of his changing his religion, which he had 
good reason to fear they would, he hoped to be 
able to gather enough money together to pay a 
portion of the principal and the full interest of the 
debt, or rather the mortgage on his property. 
This man was blessed with large hope and greater 
faith, and, as he told his family, he “ would make 
every exertion to stave off the breaking up of their 
old home ; but they must prepare themselves, as he 
was trying to do, to submit to the will of God, how- 
ever the affair might result,” 

He had a small, unproductive farm of a few acres, 
about a mile and a half away, rented to a man 
named Wilbur, who was in arrears for a year’s 
rent, and out of employment. He hoped to find a 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


301 


purchaser for the “ Mill/’ as it was called — from 
the fact that there was a ruined mill there whose 
wheel had once been turned by a broad, bright 
stream of water, long since gone dry, which of 
course rendered the mill useless, and it had fallen 
to decay. If he could sell the “ Mill” farm to ad- 
vantage, it would be a great help to him, and he 
determined to put it into the market at once ; not 
that he expected to be able to find a purchaser im- 
mediately, but it would give people time to talk 
and think about ifc, and find out how it would be to 
their advantage to buy it in time for his needs. 
Besides this, there was a balance of three hundred 
dollars still due him from the firm of Sneathen & 
Flemming, which he had enough of the old Adam 
left in him to make him too proud to dun Sneathen 
& Co., about. But he held their acknowledgment 
of indebtedness in black and white, and if they did 
not offer payment soon he would have to come 
down on them for it. 

We see how the earthly prosperity in which Mrs. 
Flemming had gloried a few months past was 
crumbling and fading around her ; how swiftly, like 
a meteor, the bright prospects of' the future had 
been quenched, and how the shadows of adversity 
continued to gather around them. The wolf was 
at their door, and it was only a question of time 
how soon he would enter. The bitter prejudice 


302 • 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


against their faith, the fanatical resentment of their 
old friends and acquaintances, closed every avenue 
of help against them ; there would have been some 
human and friendlj" feeling left for them if they 
had turned infidels, but they had become Roman 
Catholics, which in the eyes of these staunch Puri- 
tans was the culminating point of all that was in- 
famous and dreadful ; hence they watched afar off, 
with complacent self-gratulation, the approach of 
what they called retributive justice on the heads of 
these offenders, satisfied in their own minds that 
the Almighty would be satisfied with nothing short 
of their destruction. 

Nicholas Flemming had applied for the District 
School, the teacher having died six months before, 
and the Committee being unable to get any one to 
supply his place; but, bless -you! Nick might as 
well have applied for the President’s chair at 
Washington ; his application was not even consid- 
ered, but returned to him with the curt remark 
written on the back : “ The School Committee de- 
cline all communication with, or employment of, 
Papists.” 

‘‘ Pm not a Papist— yet, anyhow !” — exclaimed 
Nicholas hotly, ‘‘ and I’d like to go and punch their 
stupid old heads for them.” 

‘‘ Have courage ! if your good act has called 
forth a mean and ignoble one, how can it hurt 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS* 


303 


you?” said Wolfert Flemming, feeling strong in 
spite of liimself at the insult. ‘‘ I only wish you 
possessed fully the faith for the sake of which they 
persecute you.” 

‘‘ I wish I did, father, and I believe that in time 
I shall,” replied Nicholas. “ There’s one thing 
certain : if I can’t believe enough to become a 
CathoHc, I shall be nothing. I believe they’d burn 
us all at the stake, if they could ; I really do.” 

“ Hush, Nicholas,” said his mother, with a red 
spot on each cheek. 

“ I will, mother ; they’re your friends,” said 
Nicholas, sorry the moment after for saying it. 

Are they ?” she asked drily. 

“ Nicholas,” said his father, glad to change the 
subject, “ I want you to go down to Wilbur’s this 
afternoon, and see if he can pay his rent or any 
part of it. Tell him I’m pressed for money, or 
wouldn’t push him, knowing he’s in a tight place 
himself.” 

“ Yes, father. I’ll go ; but I don’t think there’s 
any use in going ; for he’s had no work for six 
months; and I heard yesterday that the sheriff 
had distrained his goods to pay the doctor,” said 
Nicholas. 

“ Well, well, ride over and see. It’s hard on me 
to lose ; but Wilbur’s an honest man.” 

« Why don’t you do as others do ?” interrupted 


304 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Mrs. Flemming. I don’t see wliy you should be 
distressed for another’s shortcoming.” 

“ He will pay me if he can, mother,” answered 
Flemming, gently. ‘‘ He’s an industrious, honest 
man ; but seasons of misfortune come to us all. 
He’s out of work, and has had a sick family for 
•months. Yes, let us bear one another’s burdens, 
and be merciful — lest, should we be in the same 
case, the sting of remorse be added to our sorrows.” 

I don’t live in the clouds,” she answered, “ and 
the logic of common sense is all that I understand. 
I don’t think a man has any right to distress his 
own family for the sake of a stranger. But I ex- 
pect nothing but trouble now.” 

Let us be patient, mother ; let us be patient,” 
he replied, laying his broad hand tenderly on her 
head, where he noticed for the first time among 
the black silken hair many threads of white, which 
touched the man’s heart, and he sighed, for he 
understood their significance. * 

‘‘ How can I be patient,” she cried, “ when I see 
all that has happened? I can’t be patient. You 
are all killing me. You have left me, as much as 
if you had gone away to a far country ; you are 
joined to idols, and have brought poverty and dis- 
grace upon your house, and ruined the prospects of 
your children.” 

‘‘ According to the world, mother,” he answered, 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


305 


in his low even tones, ‘‘ according to the world, 
mother, your reproaches are just, and well de- 
served; but according to the divine law, things 
wear a different aspect. They who serve God must 
expect tribulation, and bear it for His sake ; they 
must love Him before and above all, giving up 
their nearest and dearest — aye, all things — for the 
love of Him. We. are in His hands ; and I am not 
afraid, for He is merciful as well as just.” 

“ You have a prospect of having your principles 
well tested,” she replied bitterly ; • then she went up 
stairs, and locking herself in her room, had a good 
cry, after which she read ‘‘ Fox^s Book of Martyrs” 
until it got too dark to distinguish one letter from 
another. 

Nicholas came back from the ‘‘Mill” farm 
empty-handed, saying that Wilbur would see his 
father the next day if he was able ; then he walked 
off in the twilight to keep his trj^st with Huldah 
under the old hemlocks that shadowed the moun- 
tain side a few rods from her father’s house ; a spot 
which had been her favorite resort since she was a 
little, toddhng girl, and used to seek refuge there 
from the iron rule of her Aunt Deborah, to nurse 
her kittens, or cry her fill over the long strips of 
hemming and endless seams of felling given her 
for a task in punishment for certain misdemeanors 
by that inexorable woman. The Deacon had gone 


306 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


up to The Pines,” on business, and Miss Debby 
was taking tea with a neighbor ; and Huldah could 
have received her lover at home without fear of in- 
terruption, quite like the old time, when the “ course 
of their true love” did “ run smooth ;” but Nicholas 
had been forbidden the house, and was too proud 
and honorable to enter it clandestinely. But it 
was neutral ground up there under the old hem- 
locks, with God’s sky bending over them and the 
stars glistening through the dark foliage as if lis- 
tening to the whispers of the little mountian brook 
that fell over the rocks not far away and rippled 
down through the ferns and mosses at their feet ; 
and there they occasionally met to talk over the 
situation and shake their fists in the face of the 
world, making light of their difficulties — and, so 
long as they felt assured of each other’s constancy, 
hoping for the best. Huldah often declared she 
“ rather liked it, as it made her feel romantic, and 
reminded her of the heroines-she had read of in the 
old novels in the garret.” 

But this evening, Nicholas, sobered by his 
father’s troubles to an unusually gravity, and still 
feeling the smart of the insult he had received 
from the School Committee, told her everything, 
and explained the misfortunes impending over his 
family ; and the warm-hearted, generous girl was 
so shocked and grieved at it all, that for the first 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


807 


time in her life she felt too benumbed to speak — 
but not too much so to think. The forces of her 
physical hfe seemed to be absorbed by her brain, 
giving it strange power, and clearer, keener per- 
ceptions; until, uneasy at her strange silence, 
Nicholas, sensitive and unreasonable, began to 
think that she shrunk from him and her engage- 
ment, now that poverty, disgrace and distress had 
come upon them; and said some such thing to 
her — which roused her, and she said : 

“Don’t Nick. You are talking like a teapot. 
You know that you don’t, in your heart, believe a 
word that you are saying. I don’t. But I tell you, 
Nick, I’m sorry for your good, noble father, and 
the rest of them, and if I could get hold of my 
money I’d make short metre of all this trouble. But 
I can’t, you know ; and I want just to go home and 
think it all over, and see what can be done. Good- 
by, Nicholas, you shall hear from me soon.” And 
Huldah, with a strange seriousness on her face, 
rose to go. 

“ What nonsense, Huldah !” said Nicholas, im- 
petuously. “ You know that you can do nothing ; 
and I won’t have you asking favors for my family, 
or bringing yourself into trouble on their account. 
Sit down.” 

“ Don’t be uneasy, Nick, about my doings,” she 
answered. “ Let me go home now ; I really must 


308 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


go and think all this over. I want you to go away, 
right off.” 

‘‘Go, then,” replied Nicholas, letting go her 
hand. “ It is easy to say ‘ Go ’ to the unfortunate ;” 
and he was striding angrily away when Huldah 
said : 

“ Nicholas Flemming ! how dare you say such a 
thing to me who love you so ?” 

“Forgive me, Huldah,” he answered. “These 
troubles of ours are making me suspicious and irra- 
tional ; but where’s the use of going away like this, 
when I see you so seldom ?” 

“ Trust me, Nick — mind! no half trust — and let 
me go home,” said the girl ; “ and remember, if it 
should come into your thoughts at any time that 
I’m mean enough to want to throw you over be- 
cause you are poor, don’t ever come near me again ; 
because if you have such thoughts of me now, you 
are wanting in confidence in me and respect for 
me.” 

“ Very w^ell,” he answered. “ I don’t understand 
your strange humor, Huldah ; but I’ll think over 
what you say, and see what I can make out of it. 
Depend upon one thing : I shall need no second 
telling to ‘ go,’ if I have reason to think you want 
to get rid of me.” 

“ Don’t be proud with me, Nick. I declare it’s 
exactly like a scene between Don Ferdinando and 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


309 


Donna Angeletta. How nonsensici^l for matter-of- 
fact lovers like you and I !” said Huldah, with her 
old merry laugh. ‘‘ Good night.” And she held 
out her hand, which he grasped ; and holding up 
her sweet, truthful face, kissed him, and before he 
could say another word she was half way down the 
harrow path, lost to his sight amidst the shadows ; 
and Nicholas went homewards, half sulkily, yet not 
altogether miserable. 

The next day poor Wilbur came up to the Old 
Homestead, his trembling limbs scarcely able to 
support him, looking so wan and heart-worn while 
he was telling of his misfortunes and sorrows that 
Mrs. Flemming’s heart was touched ; and, forget- 
ting her own trials, she slipped out of the room and 
went up to the lumber-room, where she opened a 
chest filled up to the top with the shrunken and 
worn-out garments of the family ; and selecting the 
best of them, such as she knew would be useful to 
this stricken household, she made them into a com- 
pact bundle ; and when the man crept away, she, 
on the watch for him, slipped out of a side-door 
and waylaid him among the trees, placing it in his 
hands, while she said : ‘‘ Let me know if I can do 

anything for you all. You know that the El , 

my husband, I mean, must be in a tight place to 
push you, and we are too poor to give much help 


310 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


to others ; but the little we may be able to do, you 
will be welcome to.” 

“ I Imow it, Miss’ Flemming. I know it,” an- 
swered the man, astonished and overcome, while 
tears rolled over his thin cheeks ; and God bless 
you. The Elder couldn’t have done more for me 
if I’d been his brother ; he’s give me leave to stay 
on at ‘ The Mill^’ ’till it’s sold ; and says not a 
stitch of my goods shall be touched for the rent ; 
and if God spares me to get on my legs strong agin, 
he shall have every cent of it with interest. And I 
tell you what, ma’am, I wish other people’s religion 
’round here would crop out accordin’ to the same 
rule his’n does, much as they all abuse it. Thank 
you. Miss’ Flemming, for we’ve nothing but rags 
like these,” said Wilbur — taking hold of his tat- 
tered coat — “ to cover us.” 

“ There’s a bottle of Elderberry wine in the bun- 
dle, for your wife,” said Mrs. Flemming. 

Lord bless you, ma’am, the Elder give me bread 
and wine too, seeing how weak I am— and I owing 
him such heaps of money that I couldn’t hold up 
my head, I was that shamed ; but he shan’t lose a 
cent — not a cent — so help me God. Thank you 
ma’am, for the wine for my wife.” 

“I won’t have you stand talking any longer 
now,” answered Mrs. Flemming. “ Good-by, and 
let me know if I can do anything to help you.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


311 


And she shook hands with him, and watched him 
as he crept slowly, with the help of a stick, down 
the road. How it would have sweetened the bitter 
waters of her soul to have felt that what she had 
done she did for the sake and love of God ; but she 
did not feel this ; her act w^as the impulse of simple 
humanity — good and beautiful m itself, but un- 
sanctified by that motive without wdiich all nobihty 
of act or will, all grandeur of purpose, all heroic 
sacrifice, all generous giving and profuse alms “ are 
as nothing.” Mrs. Flemming looked on ‘‘ works ” 
as superrogatory and unnecessary to salvation ; but 
this did not prevent her, as we have seen, from giv- 
ing freely and from pure benevolence the surplus 
means that she could not use herself. Not so with 
her husband and daughters, to whose lives the love 
of Jesus had become the\nimating principle and 
the sweet incentive to works of mercy, and gave 
them the blessed consciousness of knowing that 
they ministered to Him under these poor disguises 
of suffering humanity. Now that they knew the 
real condition of the poverty-stricken family at 
‘‘Mill Farm,” they did not let their own misfor- 
tunes stand in the way of doing all in their power 
to assist them. “ Silver and gold had they none 
but what they had they gave freely, and with words 
of good cheer. They gave the labor of their hands ; 
they watched and tended the helpless, bedridden 


312 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


wife, and gave tender care to the half-starved, neg- 
lected little children. Denying themselves at their 
meals, and frequently going without their supper, 
Hope and Eva managed to feed these famished 
beings who had almost forgotten the taste of nour- 
ishing food. They saved, with zealous care, the 
cold scraps, which in their days of plenty used to 
be thrown to the dogs, and cooked them up, with 
onions, salt and thyme, into savory messes the very 
smell of which would have excited the appetite of 
an epicure — and felt more than repaid when they 
saw the relish with which they were devoured to 
the last morsel ; and occasionally they baked a 
large brown loaf for the hungry mouths. They 
sewed and mended and patched the tattered gar- 
ments, and cleansed the poor abode until every- 
thing in it — fi'om the :^oors, to the shelves with 
their scanty assortment of cracked delf — shone 
again ; and found time, now and then, to sit beside 
Mrs. Wilbur and read some of the soul-touching 
devotions for the sick from the Catholic prayer- 
book Patrick McCue had sent them ; from which . 
the afflicted woman seemed to derive much com- 
fort. 

The time devoted by Hope and Eva to these 
works of mercy was taken — not from their daily 
home duties, Mrs. Flemming would have objected 
to that — from their sleep, their spare moments 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


313 


when they might have read or rested, and from 
their long, pleasant walks among the romantic 
scenery aroimd ; and they ere long found reward 
for their self-denial in seeing the pale cheeks of the 
Wilburs filling out, and strength returning to their 
wasted limbs. This, added to the sweet conscious- 
ness of doing good, gave them a new sense of hap- 
piness such as they had never imagined or experi- 
enced before. As to who used to fetch water 
enough from the far spring to last the poor family 
all through the succeeding day, chop their wood 
and pile it up at the door, and feed and milk the 
cow — the girls did not know, and did not like to 
ask ; they were sure Wilbur didn’t do these chores 
— he wasn’t strong enough ; and they very naturally 
suspected their father — who used to disappear 
every evening about dusk, for an hour or two, and 
always come in with such a smile of content on his 
countenance that it seemed to brighten up every- 
thing around him. The gratitude and thanks of 
the people at “ Mill Farm” were almost oppressive ; 
indeed, as Eva said, “ they made her feel ashamed 
of the poor little she had done but we shall see 
by-and-by what a queer turn their gratitude took, 
thereby giving the good Flemmings a new experi- 
ence of hfe, and affording Mrs. Flemming an op- 
portunity to say with unction it is just what I ex- 
pected.” But we must not anticipate. 


314 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


One day Hope and Eva were busy over a piece 
of sewing in the old sitting, or “ living room,” as 
New-Englanders say. The outlook of the family 
affairs was gloomy, and ruin seemed inevitable. 
They were very quiet and thoughtful while the gol- 
den September sun shone through the vines over 
the windows, and fell glittering and quivering 
'among the old Dutch silver on the buffet. A 
bright little fire crackled on the tiled hearth, for 
there had been frost already. Mrs. Flemming was 
in the adjoining room — seated on the very lounge 
that Patrick McCue was laid on the night he was 
brought in out of the storm — knitting as if for life, 
a stitch and a tear very often together, and enough 
of sorrowful and bitter thoughts under every loop 
to give whoever wore the stocking the cramp all 
their days. Suddenly Wolfert Flemming came in, 
pranked off in his best suit of clothes, clean linen, 
gold studs, freshly shaved and brushed. 

“ Why — father !” exclaimed Eva, as she looked up. 

“ Father ! are you going anywhere ?” asked 
Hope, with a sudden fear. She thought perhaps 
his troubles had unsettled his mind. 

“ No, daughter. I am going to be very happy 
at home to-day !” he answered, with his old pleas- 
ant smile. 

‘‘ You have heard good news ?” said Hope, look- 
ing up eagerly. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


315 


‘‘ In one sense, yes ; in another, no,” he replied. 

. “ What is it that makes you look so strangely 
happy, father ?” asked Eva. 

“ Why, I have just found out something. You 
have heard me say, since our conversion, that in 
the dark years of the past my soul used to be 
moved, strangely moved, whenever in the Old 
Testament or the New I came across any prophecy 
or passage alluding to the Blessed Mother of Jesus. 
I spoke of it to no one then, for I feared it was 
wrong ; but I could not stifle the impression ; and 
at last in my heart of hearts I felt a deep Catholic 
reverence for her, without knowing what it meant 
or being able to define its significance. Since I 
have been brought to a knowledge of the True 
Faith, it is all plain, consoling, and blessed, and I 
have come to beheve that she was caring for my 
soul in those days and leading me through the 
darkness to her Son. And now, what do you 
think ? This, you know, is my birthday — the 8th 
OF September; and I only this morning dis- 
covered, in looking over the calendar, that it is 
also the birthday of Mary— and I am going to 
hold high festival in her honor to-day ; and every 
birthday of my life, henceforth, I shall devote es- 
pecially to Her, my patroness and Queen !* Put 
aside your sewing, daughters, and all thoughts of 
* Which he did, literally. 


316 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


worldly care ; go out and gather flowers, and bring 
them np to old Missisqnoi’s room ; and after we 
have decorated the shrine of Our Lady, and 
lighted the wax candle you made, Eva, in her 
honor, we will say the Litany and read the Office 
of the Eosary together. 

Oh, father, father !” exclaimed Eva, unable to 
restrain her emotion, as she ran and threw her 
arms about his neck and blessed him, ‘‘ how happy 
it makes me to hear this! I congratulate you, 
dearest father, and I am sure that Our dear Lady 
will deliver you temporally, as she has led you 
spiritually.” 

Dear father 1” said Hope, kissing his broad 
brown hand, and folding it in both of hers to her 
breast, “ I congratulate you too, and pray that the 
Blessed Mother may obtain for you many returns 
of this happy day.” 

‘‘And heaven at last — ” added Flemming, his 
whole countenance beaming with happiness. 

“ And heaven, at last,” repeated Hope in sweet 
solemn tones. Then he went away up into old 
Missisquoi’s room, while the girls set to work to 
gather some rich autumnal roses and scarlet 
blooms for the shrine of the Virgin. 

As to Mrs. Flemming — she had dropped her 
knitting, and sat motionless, listening in a sort of 
dumb amaze, hearing distinctly every word uttered 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


317 


by her husband and daughters, unseen by them, un- 
til they went out ; then the sudden silence seemed 
to rouse her, and she exclaimed: ‘‘They are all 
crazy together, to be going on with such nonsense 
when ruin is staring us in the face. Festival ! I’d 
hke to know where the festive part comes in ?” 

Poor Mrs. Flemming could not understand where 
the “ festive part came in,” because she still dwelt 
in the material darkness of her cold belief, fettered 
by human reason and full of spiritual pride, which 
bhnded her so that she could not distin^ish the 
deep spirituahty of the Faith professed by her 
family. She stood on the borders of the “new 
earth and new heaven” they had found, but failed 
to see the glories thereof ; her trials had blotted 
and blurred her religious perceptions ; and, smart- 
ing under the cross, she was sometimes almost 
ready to “ curse God and die ;” and above all did 
these usages of Catholic devotion, which now 
beset her on every hand, irritate and annoy her ; 
for they were to her feet a “ stumbhng-block, and 
to her mind foohshness.” But this could not cloud 
the happiness of the group kneeling so devoutly at 
the foot of Maey in the little room up stairs, call- 
ing in the simplicity of their faith on the “ Star of 
Jacob,” the “Virgin of Virgins,” the “Befuge of 
sinners,” to aid them and obtain from her divine 
Son the conversion of their mother and brothers. 


318 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Wolfert Flemming said that night he was just 
one year old, and this was his first birthday — one 
which he should remember in Eternity, 


CHAPTEE XXL 

MKS. FLEMMING IS GLAD OF SOMETHING AT LAST. 

In the meanwhile Huldah Sneathen began to ex- 
hibit a change which not only kept Nicholas in a 
fever, but attracted the serious attention of her 
father and aunt. She grew snappish and absent- 
minded, reversing the order of things, as is the 
way with absent-minded people, and very often 
made them all uncomfortable by putting salt into 
things that required sugar, and sugaring things 
that should have been salted ; sometimes she was 
very gay- — at others, very silent; and once she 
actually patched the knee of her father’s black 
pantaloons with yellow cloth, which he did not dis- 
cover until he had got into Plymouth the next 
morning — having dressed by candle-light — when 
his attention was called to the fact by the hoot- 
ings and laughter of the gamins of that godly 
town. Huldah laughed when her father scolded 
her about it, and said she was sorry — then asked 
him if he had a letter for her, which he shortly an- 
swered in the negative. Then Huldah, who had 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


319 


all her life been blessed with a good, wholesome 
appetite, and dearly loved the flesh-pots, began to 
grow dainty about her eating, and did very little 
more than peck at her food when she sat down to 
the table — and of course began to get pale and 
thin; and her aunt told the Deacon in confidence 
that she had heard her crying in the night, and 
walking about the floor when she should have been 
in bed asleep. He was puzzled and uneasy, for he 
remembered that Huldah’s mother had gone off 
with a strange, slow sort of complaint, that nobody 
thought was anjdhing worse than indolence, until 
one day she laid her poor head quietly back in her 
chair and died. 

“She’s fretting — that’s all; fretting about Nick 
Flemming,” said the Deacon, rubbing his head 
violently with his yellow silk handkerchief. 

“ La suz ! ” exclaimed Miss Debby, “ I’d like to 
know neow ! But ’taint that. Deacon ; for she sees - 
Nick Flemming every day or so. She’s clipper 
enough as fur as that goes. She’s going to turn 
Papist — that’s what it is.” 

“ Don’t be a fool, Deborah ! It’s no such non- 
sense as that. It’s Nicholas, I tell you; and I 
won’t have her worrit into getting sick,” answered 
the Deacon, growing purple in the face. 

“ Lands sakes ! Deacon began the spin- 

ster. 


320 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ I don’t want to see my child’s property going 
back to them ungodly people — ^her mother’s rela- 
tions. They’re hungering and thirsting for it — 
them Barkers are. So I won’t have her worrit, and 
you may let Nick Flemming know that he can come 
whenever he wants to,” answered the Deacon, 
looking benign. 

“ Suz ! ” exclaimed Miss Debby, with an extra 
sniff; ‘‘I forgot all about that Barker will; why, 
if Huldy was to die off to-day, Hke her poor 
mother did, all the property would go right straight 
to the Barkers ; and you couldn’t afford that. Yes, 
I guess mebbe that Nick Flemming has got some 
hand in it, and he’d better como to chirk her up.” 

So Nicholas was duly notified that he could visit 
the house again ; but Nicholas had been snubbed 
two or three times by Huldah since the evening 
they met under the hemlock trees, when she sent 
him away and had behaved altogether so strangely 
that his pride was up, and he stood off. 

So, whatever was the matter with Huldah, she 
kept it to herself in a little “ring of fire” that 
scorched her sometimes until she was half beside 
herself ; but “ she wouldn’t tell — no, not if it killed 
her” — she declared to herself over and over again. 
Nick’s coldness was almost too much for her ; for 
she “ knew that he was thinking meanly of her, 
misconstruing and misunderstanding her; but he 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


321 


was the very last one she could tell her trouble to ; 
and if he chose to mount his high horse and go 
putting on aii’S to her — why, let him do so to the 
end of the chapter then Huldah had a good cry 
to herself, which, when it was over, seemed to do 
her good, for she bounced up, began to brush her 
curls vigorously, soused her face in a basin of cold 
water, and dressed herself prettily in a new maroon 
tabinet which she had bought from a peddler with 
the dairy-money, and put a frill of rich yellow lace 
around her throat and fastened it with a gay rib- 
bon bow, then stuck another among her curls, sing- 
ing snatches of song, and saying now and then : 
“ It will come to-morrow. I am sure it will. I 
shall hear from him to-morrow ; then I shall be so 
happy ! But maybe Nick will be here this evening. 
I don’t care, though, if he don’t.” Her hope that 
Nicholas Flemming would come, was the secret of 
her grande toilette — but who was it she expected to 
hear from ? Had the sly puss got another lover ? 

But Nicholas did not come. He had gone down 
to Holderness and Plymouth with a great wagon- 
load of farm and dairy produce, and his mother’s 
beautiful carpet, just finished and taken out of the 
loom the day before, to sell. She counted on get- 
ting a good round sum for it, for it was almost as 
pretty as a store carpet ; then there was a good 
lot of wool — the wool from their sheep was alv ays 


322 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


considered the finest and whitest in the country — 
and she had taken uncommon pains in curing it 
for market ; besides this, were two barrels of maple 
syrup, as clear as amber, and a keg of elderberry 
wine, several years old, equal to any foreign wines 
in the land. And the thrifty little woman watched 
her wheeled argosy until it was out of sight, hoping 
for quick sales and high prices ; then went back to 
her sad thoughts and her spinning-wheel, for she 
was busy making her fine yarn, almost as fine as 
the yarn brought from Shetland, for which she 
always got a high price. 

Everything was going on as usual in the Old 
Homestead and around it. The golden sun of Sep- 
tember shone as brightly as ever on the wide- 
spreading beeches around it; the windows glit- 
tered like diamonds as its rays darted down through 
the dappled foliage upon the small clear panes, and 
brought out with rare bright touches the patches 
of moss and lichen upon the old black roof. There, 
between the lichen-covered elms that bordered the 
broad gravelled walk running through the middle 
of their garden and the field beyond, shone a 
glimpse of the lake, and one of its gem-hke islands ; 
farther, in the distance, the Belknap Mountains lay 
like a purple wave against the sky; nearer still 
arose Ossipee and the haughty Chocorua, with 
stripes of crimson breaking the dark monotony of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


323 


the summer foliage upon their slopes, — ^with here 
and there, as if Indian warriors were in ambush 
upon their heights, flashes of orange and scarlet, 
like flitting plumes. All around, the ledges and 
boulders of the solemn picturesque hills stood out 
bravely in blue and purple, warmed and glorified 
by clusters of yellow and crimson sumachs that 
waved their palm-like leaves gaily in the sun. 
Down along the edges of the rivulets, pink and 
purple blossoms lifted their heads among the 
grapes ; and the sweetbriar clinging about every- 
thing was full of fragrance and thickly hung with 
scarlet berries, while blue and white asters da|)pled 
the meadow lands, and the great ferns began to 
wear a crimson tinge as they waved in the low lush 
dells watered by sly little brooks that only whis- 
pered in soft shy whispers as they crept along 
through the mosses towards the beautiful lake. 
Nothing was changed outwardly. The old house 
nestled there amidst all the early autumnal beauty, 
looking as it did a century before, — ^looking as it 
did when the oldest man and woman living in those 
parts first remembered it; looking as it did one 
short year before, when the very name of Flemming 
was a power in the land, and every one in the little 
world around spoke of its inmates and pointed it 
out with pride. But we know what a change had 
come upon them, and why. The Flemmings had 


324 


THE ELEMMINGS. 


found out that the “ Kingdom of Heaven” is not of 
this world ; and, knowing this, had entered into its 
portals, willing to be stripped of all things rather 
than relinquish the right to abide there. They had 
taken up the cross, and in its strength they were 
ready to make every sacrifice for the eternal good 
they had found. I think you know all this, but it 
is so good a thing that it bears repetition. 

One day Wolfert Flemming came home from a 
journey he had taken to see a man who had written 
to him about the purchase of “ Mill Farm — came 
home disappointed, for the man had changed his 
mind and bought other property. After caring for 
his tired horse — for he had a tender heart for the 
dumb creatures that served him — ^he entered his 
house and experienced a sort of relief when he 
found the old sitting-room empty; he felt for a 
moment that it would be hard to meet his wife’s 
anxious, eager eyes, and he having nothing better 
to tell her than he had. Indeed there seemed to 
be no one in the house — everything was so silent ; 
and he thought it would be a good opportunity for 
him to spend a half hour in “ Eva’s sanctuary,” as 
Hope called it, to confide his thoughts and beg the 
assistance of the Help of Christians.” 

Laying his hat down in the passage, he wiped the 
perspiration from his forehead and opened the door. 
Eva was there, kneeling, with eyes closed and lips 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


325 


softly uttering the beautiful devotion of the Eosary 
as she slipped bead after bead through her fingers. 
The last crimson rays of the setting sun shone 
through the window upon the white statue of Mary 
and her Son, clothing them as with a garment, 
throwing out in strong relief the crucifix at their 
feet. Eva turned at the sound of her father’s en- 
trance, and, greeting him with a sweet smile of 
welcome, moved a little to make room for him as 
he knelt beside her. Here, in this spot consecrated 
by prayer to the Mother of God, the clamor of 
worldly cares and the angry mutterings of the 
storm that threatened him with shipwreck and ruin 
ebbed away from the man’s weary heart ; they could 
come “ only so far and as a sweet calm settled on 
his soul, he reahzed the full significance of that 
peace which ‘‘the world cannot give, nor take 
away and grew strong. Compared with this, the 
affairs of this hfe sunk into nothingness ; and he 
realized, perhaps more than he had yet done, the 
dual struggle and warfare of his being — the strug- 
gle of nature for perishable goods, the warfare of 
his soul for an immortal heritage ; and he thought 
— full of faith — “ Be not disquieted. Oh my soul ! 
for the Lord is thy helper in the day of trouble. 
His holy will be done.” He expected no miracle 
to be wrought for his deliverance from his present 
strait : he simply referred all things to the divine 


326 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


will, while doing all that justice to his family de- 
manded and human prudence required — assured in 
the depths of his soul that if the worst that he 
dreaded should happen, the blow would be sancti- 
fied to the good of him and his household through 
Him who had suffered all things for them. Thus 
reposing on the will of God, without a single vis- 
ionary thought or purpose, he felt that he could 
bear with courage whatever befell ; what could he 
not bear, sustained by the strength of his newly- 
found Faith and the peace born of it? He felt 
calmed, refreshed and thankful. 

Their devotions over, Eva said : “ I am glad you 
are back, father. I hope you have had good suc- 
cess ?” , 

‘‘No,” he answered, as he drew a chair to the 
window and sat down ; “ Deacon Flynt had already 
bought a place.” 

“ I am sorry, father, but I can’t despond. I have 
been praying constantly to our Blessed Mother to 
help you, and somehow I feel that she will not re- 
fuse me,” said Eva, as she brought a low bench and 
sat beside him. 

“ I hope so, daughter ; I hope so. 1 have great 
faith in her intercession. How strange! — how 
strange 1” he added. 

“What is strange, father ?” 

“That having studied the Scriptures from my 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


327 


youth up, I should have remained blind so long to 
the claims of Christ’s holy Mother he answered. 

It is true that I always felt a certain veneration 
for her above the other holy women of the Bible ; 
but it is only since I have become in faith a Ca- 
tholic, and have read the behef of the Church con- 
cerning her, that I understand all the mysterious 
allusions to her, and the wonderful and indissoluble 
connection that there is between her and our re- 
demption. Men may try to argue it away, to 
preach and write it down, to ignore it with scorn, 
and inveigh against it with contempt ; but the fact 
remains — and, if they are Christians, they half re- 
ject Christ if they reject and throw discredit on His 
Mother!” 

“ Father, do you know that I sometimes think 
that the very personality of Christ would have 
faded into a myth if the Cathohc Church had not 
preserved and cherished through past ages this 
tender memory and holy devotion to His holy 
Mother. They would have denied the Incarnation 
and denied His Humanity — having lost sight of 
her.” 

“ It might have been so ; yes, it seems possible. 
I never thought of that before ;” answered her 
father, looking far away into the glowing depths of 
light now softly fading in the west. 

“ And I can’t tell you, father, how much nearer 


328 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


and more real tlie Saviour became to me when I 
learned to know His holy Mother,” said Eva, in 
low fervid tones. 

And no wonder,” he replied ; “ for in thinking 
of the Divine Motherhood, who can forget the Di- 
vine Humanity ? In contemplating Him, is it pos- 
sible to divest the mind of her who was chosen by 
almighty God from His whole creation to be the 
Mother of His Son ? Full of grace, she was both 
prophet and apostle, in whom met the Old Law 
and the New, who fulfilled prophecy and inter- 
preted the Scriptures. From her lips man learned 
the wonderful story of the Incarnation, which was 
confirmed by angel messengers and sealed by the 
birth of her Divine Son. Oh, my heart gets very 
fuU when I think and talk of Our Lady.” 

‘‘Talk on, dear father,” said Eva, folding her 
hands together on her knees, while her countenance 
glowed with devotion ; “ talk on ; it does me good.” 

“It does me good too, daughter, to think and 
talk of this Mother of the Eedemption. Eve was 
the mother of creatures, Mary of souls. Both were 
created without sin : Eve fell, entailing sin and 
eternal death on her 'offspring ; Mary brought life 
to hers, by giving birth to the Saviour who re- 
deemed them, and suffering with Him all the penal- 
ties of guilt, that the guilty might be pardoned. 
Oh, it is wonderful ! From the time she was prom- 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


329 


ised to our first parents, to the hour when she gave 
birth to her Divine Son, the Scriptures are full of 
her. Everything foreshadowed her. The temple, 
built of the purest and most precious materials ; 
the ark of the covenant ; made of costly and indes- 
tructible wood, which none but priestly hands might 
touch and live, typified her who was to bear in her 
sacred womb the Holy One. The women Sara, Ee- 
becca, Esther, Deborah, Judith, Euth, Jael, Lea, 
Anna, Abigail, Noemi, Eachael and the Sunamite 
woman, were imperfect types of her who, as ‘ fair as 
the moon, bright as the sun, and terrible as an army 
in array,’ was to crush the serpent’s head. She is 
the burning bush of Moses which was yet uncon- 
sumed ; she is the ‘ garden enclosed,’ the new Eden 
into which nothing defiled could enter or taint ; she 
is the ‘ sealed fountain’ the waters of which nothing 
can pollute ; she is the ‘ eastern gate’ through wEich 
the true Light enters ; she is the ‘ brilliant dawn’ 
which precedes the rising Sun ; she is the rainbow, 
the true sign of the new Covenant and man’s re- 
conciliation with the Most High ; she is the sacer- 
dotal rod of Aaron w^hich blossomed in the taber- 
nacle ; she is the fleece of Gideon, moistened with 
heavy dews when all else remained dry and arid 
around it ; she is the dove always spotless, the lily 
ever pure, the rose ever fresh and without thorns. 
And what sweet and august epithets are bestowed 


330 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


on her by the Book of books : ‘ Queen/ ‘ tabernacle 
of the Most High/ ‘ house of God/ ‘ blessed land 
of the Lord/ ‘ star of Jacob/ ‘ strong woman/ ‘ the 
most beautiful among women/ ‘ the most happy 
mother of beautiful love, of faith, of wisdom, of 
holy hope, and full of grace.’ She is compared in 
the holy pages to the pavilion of cedar, to the fount 
in the garden, to the light of the morning, to the 
source of the waters of life which flows from 
Libanus, to the azure of the heavens, to the cj^ress 
of Zion, to odorous and precious perfume, to storax, 
to spikenard, to galbanum ! As the heavens are 
filled with stars, so are the Scriptures gemmed 
with the glories of Mary brightening up that long 
night of gloom from the fall to the Birth of the 
Messiah ! I had read over and over again all these 
names and titles without knowing to whom they 
applied until the scales fell from my eyes and I be- 
held her crowned with them as with a precious 
diadem before which the lustre of all other crowns 
is eclipsed ! All the inspired writers delighted to 
speak of her. Isaias exclaims : ‘ Behold ! a Virgin 
shall conceive and bring forth a Son whose name 
shall be Emmanuel.’ In another place he says : 

^ And there shall come forth a rod out of the root 
of Jesse, and a flower shall rise up out of his root.’ 
Jeremias declares : ‘ The Lord hath created a new 
thing on earth, a woman shall compass a man.’ 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


331 


And here,” said Wolfert Flemming, taking a small 
book from his breast and holding it close to catch 
the light, now almost faded into night, ‘‘ is what 
TertuUian, St. Jerome, and St. Bernard, interpret- 
ing these words, exclaim : ‘ This woman is Mary ! 
The root of Jesse signifies the race of David ; the 
scion of this root is the Virgin of Israel ; and the 
flower born of this scion is Jesus Christ, the Son 
of Mary. Most truly,’ ” he went on reading, in 
almost exultant tones, ‘‘ ‘ a creature promised by 
God Himself to our first parents at the begin- 
ning of the world ; a creature who was to have 
part in the designs of the Most High for the salva- 
tion of the world ; a creature prefigured by so many 
mysterious types — represented by so many illus- 
trious women ; a creature called by such beautiful 
names, and on whom was bestowed such gracious 
and honorable titles ; a creature predicted and an- 
nounced by the prophets, could not be an ordinary 
being. She must have had prerogatives above 
those of common humanity ! No ! there is nothing 
in all this to surprise us, for is not Maky the mar- 
vel of marvels, an abyss of miracles ; the greatest 
wonder the heavens or the earth ever beheld? 
From these considerations flowed the belief that 
she was, by the power of the Most High, conceived 
without sin ; it is from this assemblage of wonders 
that the faith of all Christian ages in it was derived 


332 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


— a faith which is in itself one of the strongest 
proofs of the fact.’ ” 

“ I believe it, father. How could I doubt it ? I 
could not believe that Eve, who was to be the 
mother of mankind, was created without sin, and 
that Mary, who was to be the Mother of Jesus 
Christ our Saviour, was not. Oh, I am sorry it is 
growing so dark ! This has been so lovely, dear 
father!” exclaimed Eva. Just then there came a 
sound from the outside of the door, like a smoth- 
ered sob, and there was a rustle of garments re- 
treating down the long dark passage ; and when 
Eva went out she could discover nothing, and 
thought it might have been the rustling of the 
branches of the huge old trees against the windows 
— for she remembered how often she had heard 
that, and what an eerie sound they made, scraping 
and tapping on the glass. 

‘‘ I forgot to tell you, father,” she said, as they 
walked together along the passage, “ that poor Buby 
is quite ill. He fainted dead away this morning.” 

‘‘ My poor lad 1 Where is he ; I’ll go straight to 
him,” he answered. 

There was no Hght in the boy’s room. He saw 
the dim outline of his wife, standing against the 
window, looking drearily out on the gathering 
shadows — and he spoke cheerily, saying : 

‘‘ You see I am back, mother. How is the lad.” 


V 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


333 


‘‘He’s a little weak— that’s all,” she replied 
without turning her head. She would never admit 
that it was anything but weakness when Reuben 
had one of his attacks. “ He has not been out to 
exercise in the open air for several days, but has 
been moping around, doing nothing, and it don’t 
agree with him.” 

Wolfert Flemming groped his way to the bed, 
and stooping down to kiss the boy found that his 
face was drenched with tears ; then he gathered 
him up in his strong arms and held the beautiful 
head, with its golden tangles of hair, upon his 
breast, and leaned his cheek upon it as tenderly as 
a woman. Mrs. Flemming was watching ; accus- 
tomed to the gloom of the room, she saw it all, and 
her eyes overflowed with tears ; she longed to go 
and lay her head beside Reuben, on her husband’s 
shoulder; her heart was full almost to bursting 
with tenderness and pity — but her Puritan pride 
held her back silent and motionless. 

“ Father,” whispered Reuben, “ I’ll be a man yet !” 

“ Get well, my lad ; get well and strong again ; 
that is all I ask,” answered his father. “ I’ll sit 
here, mother, if you wish to go down.” 

“ Yes, I have something to attend to. But tell 
me, before I go, if you made any bargain with 
Deacon Flynt about the farm ?” she said, turning 
to go. 


334 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


‘‘ None, I am sorry to say !” he replied, “ He 
had bought one nearer home.” 

‘‘ I thought nothing would come of it,” she said 
with a sigh. 

‘‘ I shall be well enough to churn for you, ‘ little 
mammy,’ in the morning,” said Eeuben, while he 
folded his father’s great hand close to his breast. 

‘‘I hope so, Euby. I’m sure I shall be glad to 
have you notwithstanding you make ‘ducks and 
drakes’ of my cream,” she replied as she left the 
room. 

“ It is so good to be resting here on your breast,” 
said Eeuben. “ Did you bring me a letter, father?” 

“ No, my lad ; do you expect a letter ?” 

“ Yes, sir ; and I think I shall be better when it 
comes.” 

“ Whom do you expect a letter from ?” 

“I would rather not tell you now, sir. I will 
show it to you when it comes.” 

“Very well. It can be nothing wrong, if you 
are willrng that I should see it.” 

“No, father, I don’t think it is wrong — ^what I 
have been doing. Maybe it is foolish,” answered 
Eeuben thoughtfully. 

“I guess this letter will explain some of your 
little mysteries, my lad ?” 

“Yes, sir — all of them. Oh, I wish it would 
come — I do wish it would come ! Father, if that 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


335 


letter comes, and is what I expect, I shall be as 
well and chipper as a robin.” 

‘‘ Perhaps it may come to-morrow. Always hope 
for the best.” 

‘‘ I never hope for anything else, father. Why, 
I feel better already— just thinking about it. These 
sugs that I have are nothing. I just run down hke 
a Connecticut clock — and get wound up again, 
ready for anything; and it has done me lots of 
good to see you.” And Eeuben put his arms 
about his father’s neck, and, clinging close to him, 
fell into a deep refreshing sleep, with a pleasant 
smile parting his lips. Wolfert Flemming laid him 
gently down upon the pillows, shaded the candle — 
which some one had come in and lit — and stood 
looking down at the rarely chiselled features of this 
the Benjamin of his flock — at the wild curling hair 
that shone like a golden aureole around his fore- 
head, and at the long tapering hand, so small and 
shapely, for all the world like the hands of his an- 
cestress, Lady Pendarvis : then, laying his hand 
lightly upon his head, blessed him from the depths 
of his heart, and went down stairs to join his 
family at tea. 

The next afternoon Hope and Eva thought they 
would go down to “ Mill Farm,” to find out how 
the Wilburs were getting on. They had not been 
there for several days — there being no need— for 


336 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Wilbur bad got work, and his wife was up and 
about again, thanks to their assistance and help. 
But they did not like to give the poor family up 
altogether ; so, putting a fresh loaf of brown bread 
from the morning baking, some doughnuts and a 
pound of sweet butter into a basket, they started 
on their errand of Christian kindness. But when 
they got in sight of the house, they saw to their 
amazement that all the doors and windows were 
closed, and no sign of life about it. 

What in the world can be the matter ?” ex- 
claimed Eva. 

It looks as if they had flitted said Hope, 
laughing ; “ only I am sure they would not do such 
a thing without letting us know.” 

“ No, I guess not. They are too grateful for the 
little we have done for them to behave like that.” 

‘‘ Well now, Eva, I don’t think it is a very ‘little’ 
that we have done. It was the best we could do, 
and it proved ‘ much’ for them, poor souls ; and if 
they have gone off — ” said Hope, whose eyes 
began to sparkle. 

“Why, even the cow’s gone!” exclaimed Eva. 

Just then they heard a rustling in the myrtle 
bushes near them, and looking round they saw 
little Ned Wilbur’s white head sticking up from 
among the purple furze that grew knee-high there- 
abouts. 




THE FLEMMINGS. 337 

Wliy, Neddy, is that you?” said Hope, laugh- 
ing. 

“ Yes’m ; it be.” 

‘‘ How are all your folks to-day ?” 

‘‘ They’s right well, ’m.” 

‘‘ Here’s a doughnut for you, Neddy.” The boy 
sprang out from his covert, and snatching the 
doughnut from her hand, began to eat, winking 
his eyes and smacking his lips with delight, while 
his wild little heart grew mellow with the flavor of 
the delicious morsel. The sisters laughed, and 
Eva said : “ Neddy, what in the world are you all 
shut up so tight down there for ?” 

“ I’m ’fraid to tell !” he replied, munching. 

“Tell me this minute, Ned, and I’ll give you 
another doughnut,” said Hope. The bait was too 
inviting, and Neddy began to nibble. 

“Daddy shut the house up to keep the Papishers 
out. Father Bay bid him to. Daddy’s goin’ away 
— he is — and all of us,” said Neddy with his glist- 
ening eyes fixed on the doughnut in Hope’s hand. 

“ For what ? Where ever in the world are you * 
all going ?” - 

“ Why, you see, ’m. Father Eay got my daddy 
some work, and he told him if he didn’t stop 
lettin’ you all come round us he’d have it tuk away 
from him and have us all sent to jail for beggars. 

I ’dare he did, ’m ; so mammy toult me to tell you. 


338 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


when I see you, please not to come no more. 
Gimme my doughnut now !” 

“ I won’t give you a crumb of it until you go 
and ask your mother if we may come in ; I want 
to see her,” said Hope. 

“ I’ll go, ’m,” answered Neddy, upon whose pal- 
ate lingered enough of the delicious taste of the 
doughnut to make him ravenous for more. He 
crept into the house, through some loophole Hope 
and Eva could not discover, and presently they 
heard alternate whacks and yells sounding from 
within, and while they were wondering what the 
hubbub meant, Neddy came rushing towards them 
rubbing his shoulders and legs, his face looking 
like a harlequin’s, it was besmirched with dirt and 
tears — the redness of his freckled skin showing in 
bars across his cheeks— while he screamed be- 
tween his sobs : Go ’way ; mammy says go ’long 
— away. She don’t want you to come anighst her. 
Father Bay’s going to send us to school, and give 
us a house to live in ; an’ it’ll ruin us, mammy says, 
if you don’t go right away. Now , gimme my 
doughnut.” 

“ Well — I declare !” exclaimed Hope. ‘‘ Eva, I 
have good mind to march right in and give that 
ungrateful woman a blowing-up.” 

‘‘No, don’t,” answered Eva; “don’t. It’s all the 


THE FLEMMINGS^. 


339 


same, darling, if you will only remember for whose 
dear sake we helped them.” 

“ After our self-denial, and working for them like 
negroes ! I declare I can’t stand it— I must go and 
tell her what I think of it !” 

‘‘And lose the merit of your good works, and 
the sweet approval of Him for whose sake you 
worked !” remonstrated Eva. “ Come ! let us go 
back.” 

“ No. I intend to whip Neddy. Let him suffer 
vicariously for his ungrateful family,” answered 
Hope grasping Neddy’s ragged sleeve. 

“No! no! — dont’ee, don tee — Miss Hope. I 
smarts all over now, mammy dinged at me so,’’ 
cried the boy, dancing with fright. 

“I have a mind to,” said Hope, laughing. 
“ Here — here’s your doughnut, Neddy, and go 
take this loaf of bread and pot of fresh butter to 
your mammy, and tell her not to put them on her 
head — there might be coals of fire in them. Tell 
her that’s the way that PapisTiers punish their ene- 
mies. Clear out with you.” The urchin needed 
no second bidding, but scampered off as fast as 
his legs could carry him. 

“ It’s as funny as exasperating !” exclaimed 
Hope. 

“ I’m glad we had a chance to help them in their 
need,” said Eva. 


340 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


‘‘ I suppose I ought to be, too, but I really am 
not. I should like to shake them all ! such fanati- 
cism! Why, they would have starved, if it had 
not been for the help they got. Why didn’t Parson 
Pay help them then ? It is true that the ways of 
men are past finding out.” 

‘‘You don’t mean half that you say, d^ing?” 

“ Yes, I do ; every word.” 

“ What did you send those things for then ? Ah, 
I’ve caught you there 1” 

“ No, you haven’t. I sent them just for the sat- 
isfaction of sending that message about the coals 
of fire with them. The ungrateful creatures 1” re- 
plied Hope. 

Then they turned and walked away, strolling oH 
until they reached the lake shore, where they sat 
down to watch the lights and shadows ever flitting 
from the clouds above over the summer ripples as 
they flowed around the fair islands and laved the 
giant feet of the Ossipee. While they sat there 
talking, and drinking in the loveliness of the scene, 
their attention was attracted by a gentleman evi- 
dently a stranger in the neighborhood, who had a 
small pouch hung over his shoulder which they 
thought at the first ghmpse was a bird-bag ; but as 
he had no gun, only a queerly constructed hammer 
in his hand, with which he w^ent about cracking 
pieces of rock off the boulders that projected here 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


341 


and there from the earth, they took it for granted 
that he was no hunter ; but what he was so , idly 
busy about, they could not imagine, and thought 
he might be just a httle flighty. This idea and the 
lengthening shadows together, warned them that it 
was time to turn their faces homeward. 

It was almost dark when they got back, and their 
father and mother — and Eeuben, who was better — 
were about sitting down to tea. Hope gave, a 
spirited account of the Mill Farm adventure — at 
which Keuben laughed, and his father with a grave 
smile said : 

“ It will always be a pleasant thought, daughters, 
that we were able to help them a little in their ex- 
treme want. I am glad Wilbur has found work.” 

“ It is nothing more than I expected,” said Mrs. 
Flemming, drily, while her handsome eyes snapped 
sparkles of their old fires. 

“ Well ! well ! — it was only human nature for 
them to follow their worldly interests — having no 
higher aim, and knowing nothing better,” said 
Wolfert Flemming. “ The fanaticism of their 
friends and advisers is more to be deplored than 
the little mortification it may occasion us to feel.” 

I’d like to know why Father Eay did not do 
something for them when they were sick and starv- 
ing; and so I shall tell him,” said Mrs. Flem- 
ming. 


342 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


“ Let it rest, mother ; cllc>ouosion will do no good, 
and may provoke angry feelings,” said her husband. 

‘‘ I can’t help it. I shall speak my mind,” she 
answered. 

‘‘ Hark !” exclaimed Eeuben. “ I think I hear 
the wagon bells ! Yes ! yes ! I know the sound of 
the bells ! Just listen, all of you !” 

And, listening, true enough they heard the 
musical jingle of the horses’ bells coming nearer 
and nearer, then uprose a cheery halloo, and they 
knew that Nicholas was almost there. Wolfert 
Flemming arose from the table and went out, fol- 
lowed by Eeuben, to meet him, and the httle 
mother bestirred herself to get ready a substan- 
tial supper for the hungry traveller, well knowing 
that Nick always came home from a journey with 
the appetite of a kite — wondering all the while if 
he had returned with an empty wagon and a full 
wallet — ^half fearing (she was always expecting the 
worst now) that he had found a poor market for 
his wares and brought them back. Before long he 
came in, hugged and blessed her as he always did, 
shook hands and kissed his sisters, then sat down 
to his supper, saying : “ I’m awfully hungry. 
Mother, I’ll tell you all about business presently. * 
It’s all right, you know. Hope, have you seen 
Huldah since I went away ?” 

‘‘ Yes, she was here yesterday. You know she is 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


343 


to come whenever she pleases now, and you are to 
go there as you used to,” answered Hope. 

“ Whew ” said Nicholas, cutting into a cranberry 
pie, “ I don’t know when I shall go, though ! I 
don’t like being played fast-and-loose with.” 

“Pshaw, Nick! where’s the use in minding 
Deacon Sneathen ?’’ said Hope. 

“ I don’t, answered Nick, while he thought of 
Huldah and her secret ; “ I don’t mind him any 
more than I do an old turkey-cock.” 

“Then don’t hurt Huldah’s feelings by not 
going.” 

Keuben and his father now came in and drew up 
around the table with the rest. 

“ I was glad to find that wagon empty, Nick,” 
said his father. 

“ Yes, sir 1 I had splendid luck ; sold everything 
I took along, and could have sold more if I had 
had it. Mother, Deacon Green, at Plymouth, 
bought your carpet ; and what do you think he 
said?” 

“ What ?” inquired Mrs. Flemming sharply. 
“ There’s nothing the matter with the carpet ; 
there’s not an uneven thread in it.” 

“ He said he’d buy the carpet, not only because 
it was a very handsome ^one and a good strong 
piece of work, but because it was made by one of 
the best women ”. 


344 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Hash, Nick!” said Mrs. Flemming, “ I don’t 
want to hear what the Deacon said. What did he 
give for it ?” 

One of the best women,” continued Nick, heed- 
less of the interruption, “ one of the best mothers, 
and one of the best wives in the world.” 

“ That is so ; that is all true,” they all exclaimed, 
delighted to hear their mother’s praises from so 
good and honorable a man as Deacon Green, while 
her husband looked at her with a flush of pleasure 
on his calm handsome face. Then Nick added, as 
he took out his wallet and handed it to her, ‘‘ He 
paid cash for it, mother ; it’s all there with the 
rest ; about two hundred dollars in all. The 
Deacon paid one dollar a yard for the carpet.” 

‘^Hand it over to your father, Nicholas,” said 
Mrs. Flemming, a bright Hght in her eyes and a 
flush upon her cheeks. ‘‘ It is his.” 

‘‘ Keep it, mother, until the time comes to use 
it,” said WoKert Flemming, lifting his heavy brows 
and looking at her with a heavenly tenderness in 
his clear truthful eyes — for the man’s heart was 
profoundly touched, 

« Very well,” she answered, coldly. 

Then they laughed and talked together, Nicholas 
telling them all that he had seen in Plymouth and 
Holderness, and what sharp bargains he had 
driven with people who wanted to take advantage 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


345 


of him because they thought him inexperienced in 
business ; then they told him about the Wilburs, 
and after he had laughed over the comical way 
that Hope related their adventure at Mill ” farm, 
he declared that he would go there betimes the 
next morning and thrash the whole family — 
which of course he had no idea of doing, but it did 
the young fellow good to say it and think that h-e 
should like to do it. 

Wolfert Flemming sat up late that night talking 
over his plans with Nicholas. “If he could not 
raise the money to meet the note due on the first 
of December he should sell the Homstead farm, 
rent the house and garden — he could not bear even 
to think of selling his house — and move his family 
to Ohio, where he would begin the world anew.” 

“ But, father, how do you expect to raise the 
money — a thousand dollars asked Nicholas, 
gravely and sorrowfully. 

“ I hope to sell ‘ Mill ’ farm, my lad ; and there’s 
a balance due me from Sneathen & Flemming — a 
balance of three hundred dollars. I hope to raise 
the money,” said the man, lifting up his head and 
drawing a long breath ; and his upward look and 
deeply-drawn sigh seemed like a prayer, it was so 
full of trust and pathos. 

“ And I want you to go up to ‘ The Pines,’ ” he 


346 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


V 

said, presently, as soon as you get rested, my 
lad.” 

“ I’m not tired, sir. I’d like nothing better than 
to start to-morrow,” said Nick, glad of an excuse 
not to go near Huldah — while he was longing in 
his very heart to see her ; but she had a secret 
which she kept from him, and as long as she with- 
held her confidence he didn’t care to meet her, for 
that secret had made a coldness between them 
which rendered their interviews anything but 
pleasant. 

“ Very well ; thank you, my lad. Be ready to 
start early in the morning. Good night.” 

“Good night, father,” said the young man. 
Then, instead of going to bed as he should have 
done, he put on his hat and went out into the clear 
frosty night, and walked about a mile up to the 
turn in the road, whence he could see afar off the 
light shining from Huldah’s window ; and there he 
stood — foolish fellow — watching it, and imagining 
he saw her shadow flitting back and forth, when it 
was suddenly extinguished ; then he went home 
and tumbled into bed, and had no sooner stretched 
himself upon it than he was sound asleep — for 
Nick w^as no Borneo. 

He was away two or three days, and came back 
without the money. “ Deacon Sneathen ” — he told 
his father — “ was up to ‘ The Pines,’ and seemed to 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


347 


be in a dreadful fuss. I tell you what it is, father 
— if there’s not trouble brewing there, my name’s 
not Nicholas. The Deacon told me, when I let 
him know what I had come after, that it was one 
of the things that had brought him up there, to 
examine the books and settle your claim ; ‘ but,’ 
says he, ‘I can’t do it now, Nick.* I can’t do it 
until the middle of October, no how. My pardner 
hesn’t put nothing into the business, and he’s 
dr a wed five thousand dollars out of it to build that 
dratted steam saw-mill with ;’ and if you’ll believe 
me, sir,” continued Nicholas, ‘‘they haven’t got 
above the foundation yet. Jones, the foreman — 
you remember Jones, father — ^he told me up and 
down that he believed things were all going to 
smash ; and said it was awful, the prayer-meetings 
that the new partner keeps up. The fellows up 
there don’t care much about prayer-meetings, you 
know, sir ; they like, when their day’s work is over, 
to go to each other’s huts and smoke their pipes, 
and drink a little, and tell yarns ; but the new ij^ian 
wants to break up all their old habits, and make 
them come to prayer-meeting; and those who 
won’t come he dismisses. There’ll be a row up 
there before long. The Deacon’s at his wits’ end.” 

“ I’m glad of it ; I am heartily glad he is,” snap- 
ped Mrs. Flemming, from her corner, where she 
sat reeling her fine yarn into hanks. 


348 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


‘‘ Mother !” said Wolfert Flemming, looking up 
in surprise. 

“ I am heartily glad of it,” she repeated ; “ and 
it serves him right.” 

‘‘And father” — ^Nicholas continued, after a quiet 
little laugh in his sleeve at his mother’s outbreak — 
“ what do you think the Deacon said ?” 

“ What, my lad ?” 

“ He said, sir, that he had never had any trouble 
about his accounts or his affairs while you managed 
them; that everything went on fair and square, 
and there was no muss of any sort ; but everything 
was in a ‘ dratted tangle and confusion.’ ” 

“ Serves him right !” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming. 

“ And he didn’t know at which end to begin put- 
ting things to rights,” continued Nicholas. 

“ I’m glad of it,” repeated Mrs. Flemming, mak- 
ing her reel fly round ; “ I never was so glad of 
anything in my life.” 

“ Let us pray for our enemies, and bless those 
who despitefully use us,” said Wolfert Flemming, 
in his grave, sonorous tones — for his great, forgiv- 
ing heart was really pained to learn how his old as- 
sociate’s affairs were going to the bad. 

“ You can do it, father ; I can’t. I should be a 
hypocrite to say I could. To throw you over like 
he did, for a ‘ man gifted in prayer !’ But I think 
the gifted creature will be a little more than he 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


319 


bargained for. I am honestly glad to hear it all,” 
replied Mrs. Flemming. 


CHAPTEE XXIL 

THE MAN WITH THE HAMMEK — THE LAST BITTEK DKOP. 

Golden September had melted into crisp, ruddy 
October. The autumnal fruits and the poor har- 
vests of the summer were gathered in, made the 
most of, and stored away in granaries and barns. 
People were thankful when they found there would 
be enough to subsist their own families and stock 
on during the coming winter; it was more than 
they had expected. Looking down from one of the 
peaks of Prospect Hill, the beautiful valley of the 
Pernigewasset appeared like a kaleidescope ; it 
was so dappled and checkered and striped with 
crimson, russet, orange, scarlet and rich winter- 
green ; it was so gay with flashing waters, so span- 
gled with peaks of glittering quartz, so beautifled 
by mountain ranges, melting off into the distance 
in exquisite shades of blue and purple ! 

Apple-parings, singing-classes and quilting bees, 
with all the other gatherings in which these thrifty 
people blended the utile and dulce at this season of 
the year, began to make the neighberhood lively ; 


350 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


but our friends at the Old Homestead — who wer6, 
you know, morally outlawed — remained quietly at 
home, receiving no invitations, and too busy over 
their own domestic affairs to take the slight much 
to heart. There were moments when they all felt 
the mortification of being so utterly neglected ; 
they would have been more than human had they 
not; but, thinking over the cause, they were 
straightway consoled, and offered themselves anew 
to Him who said : “ Blessed are they that suffer 
persecution for justice sake, for theirs is the king- 
dom of heaven. Blessed are ye when men shall 
revile you .... and speak all manner of evil 
against you, untruly, for MY sake ; be glad and 
rejoice, for your reward is very great in heaven.’’ 

And what did all they had suffered, and still ex- 
pected to suffer, weigh against this magnificent 
promise ? Nothing ; and in their souls they were 
glad and rejoiced, even as the sun shines behind 
the cloud, even as the rainbow crowns the brow of 
the storm! 

Deacon Sneathen had sent Wolfert Flemming a 
check for the three hundred dollars, and Nicholas 
had been down to Plymouth again with his loaded 
wagon, and came back with a hundred more ; this, 
with the two hundred on hand, left a balance of 
four hundred to make up the needed amount ; but 
where or how it was to be raised none of them 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


351 


could imagine. The outlook was discouraging. 
No one seemed to want to buy Mill Farm this 
w^as the last resource, except selling out altogether. 
But they did not make each other miserable by de- 
sponding and worrying over the situation, and went 
on exactly as if nothing had happened — full of 
grave thoughts, it is true, and often wondering how 
it would end, but trying cheerfully to bear each 
other’s burdens. Nicholas was the most gloomy 
and unhappy of them all, except his mother. Cold- 
ness had grown up between him and Huldah : he 
was too proud to ask, she too proud to offer an ex- 
planation — consequently he had not availed him- 
self of the Deacon’s permission to visit the house 
again. Poor Huldah! her secret had been pro- 
ductive of nothing but trouble to her. If her little 
mystery had turned out as she had hoped, it would 
have explained itself and exonerated her fully ; but 
the letter she had been so long expecting had not 
come yet, and ‘‘never would,” she thought. Neither 
had Reuben’s letter come. But the two letters had 
nothing to do with each other. 

Things were in this way, when ^one bright morn- 
ing as Reuben was creeping slowly along in the 
sunshine towards the Old Mill, everything looked 
so lovely that he sat down on a moss-covered rock 
to enjoy the scene of which his poet’s heart never 
grew weary. The little rivulet — all that was left of 


352 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


the big brawling stream that used to turn the great 
mill-wheel — was dancing and flashing over the 
pebbles at his feet, making a low murmur as sweet 
as the tinkling of silver bells. Keuben was soothed 
by the sound into a reverie half pleasant, half sad ; 
a dreamy mist arose out of his mental hfe, through 
which he caught ghmpses of a promised land. He 
abandoned himself to his dreams, and believing 
that he was alone with nature, yielded himself en- 
tirely to their sweet enhancement. 

“ A fine day !” said a loud, harsh voice, some- 
where over him ; and starting round, Keuben saw 
the man with the hammer. “ A very fine, whole- 
some day.” 

‘‘Yes, sir,” replied the lad, touching his hat. 
The blood had all gone in an instant from his deli- 
cate face at the sudden address and sight of the 
stranger, and as swiftly returned, flushing his 
cheeks like roses. 

“ I beg your pardon. I started you considerably, 
I reckon; but I’m a rough sort of a fellow,” he said, 
good-naturedly. “The truth is, I live so much 
alone among the woods and rocks that I’m afraid I 
sometimes forget the customs of civilization.” 

“ I’m glad to see you, sir,” replied Keuben, at a 
loss what else to say. “ I’ve been sick, you see, 
and any little thing makes me jump. Are you a 
stranger up here ?” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


353 


‘‘ I was, a month or so ago ; but I haye trudged 
over every inch of ground, mountain and valley, 
within ten miles round, and know them all like old 
friends. In fact, I shall hate to go away, for the 
scenery is the grandest I ever saw.” 

“Hadn’t you better stay, sir? You’ll lose a 
great deal if you miss seeing the winter up here.” 

“ No ; I can’t stay. I’m writing a book, a his- 
tory of New Hampshire, and shall have to hurry 
home in a week or two to get the first part of it in 
type!” Eeuben’s heart began to go out to the 
man ; and when he found out that he was an au- 
thor, he felt as if he had met one of the genii of 
his dreams, and regarded him with a strange mix- 
ture of awe and delight. “ How grand that moun- 
tain bluff, with the scarlet sumachs waving from its 
crevices, looks with the sunlight shining upon its 
bald brow I What do you call that ?” 

“ That is Ohocorua, sir !” 

“ An Indian name ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ I hope it has a legend ?” 

“It has a true, veritable history, sir,” replied 
'Reuben, whose eyes kiddled and whose interest in 
the man increased, 

“ I should be very glad to hear it, if it is not too 
long. I dote on these Indian legends.” 

“ It is not very long,” replied Reuben, now in his 


354 


^THE FLEMMINGS. 


glory; ‘^and I shall be glad to relate it. Many 
years ago,” he began, ‘‘ a colony of hardy, intelli- 
gent pioneers settled at the foot of the mountains, 
and the chief man among them was named Corne- 
lius Campbell, whose gigantic stature impressed the 
Indians with awe, and whose superior intellect 
threw a spell over his companions, who felt that 
although he was among them he was not of them. 
He had the bold, quick tread of one who had often 
wandered fearlessly among the terrible hiding- 
places of nature ; and while his voice was harsh, 
his coimtenance, sometimes imder the gentle influ- 
ences of his home, unveiled a deep tenderness of 
expression which lit up his hard features like the 
sunlight on a rugged headland. His wife was a 
beautiful, high-born lady, who had displeased her 
father by rejecting spme splendid offers of marriage 
for the sake of Cornelius Campbell, who had been 
a zealous and active enemy of the Stuarts, and 
whose hopes were finally crushed by the restora- 
tion of Charles II. He and his beautiful bride fled 
to America, and accompanied the party who formed 
the little colony which settled in this place, which 
was so remote from all intercourse with civilization 
that they endured great hardships and sufferings. 
From the Indians they received neither injury nor 
insult. No cause of offence had ever arisen ; and 
although their visits were frequent and troublesome 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


355 


to the white settlers, they never exhibited the least 
jealousy or malice. 

In the tribe there was a prophet named Cho- 
corua, who was to his people an object of peculiar 
veneration. He had a mind which education and 
motive would have nerved with giant strength ; but 
growing up in savage freedom, it wasted itself in 
dark, fierce, ungovernable passions. There was 
something fearful in the quiet haughtiness of his 
lips ; it seemed so like slumbering power — too 
proud to be hghtly roused, too implacable to sleep 
again. In his small, black, fiery eye, expression 
lay coiled up like a beautiful snake. The whites 
knew that his hatred would be terrible ; but they 
never provoked it ; and even the children became 
too much accustomed to him to fear him. 

Chocorua had a son ten years old, to whom 
Caroline Campbell had occasionally made such 
gaudy presents as were likely to attract his savage 
fancy. This won the boy’s affections, and he be- 
came almost an inmate of their dwelling ; and be- 
ing unrestrained by the courtesies of civilized life, 
he would inspect everything and taste everything 
which came in his way. One day he discovered 
some poison which had been prepared for a mischie- 
vous fox which had long troubled the little settle- 
ment, and drank it, then went home to his father 
to sicken and die. From that moment hatred and 


356 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


vengeance took possession of Chocorna’s soul. He 
did not speak of his suspicions, but brooded over 
them in secret, to nourish the deadly revenge he 
contemplated against Cornelius Campbell. One 
bright, balmy morning in June, Campbell left his 
dwelhng for the fields. Still a lover, though ten 
years a husband, his last look was towards his 
wife, answering her parting smile ; his last act a 
kiss for each of his children. When he returned to 
dinner they were all dead, and their disfigured 
bodies too cruelly showed that an Indian’s hand 
had done the work. 

In such a mind, grief, like every other emotion, 
was stormy. His home had been to him the only 
green spot in hfe. In his wife and children he had 
garnered up all his heart ; and now they w^ere so 
terribly torn from him, the remembrance of their 
love clung to himhke the death-grapple of a drown- 
ing man, sinking him down into darkness and 
death. Then followed a calm a thousand times 
more terrible. Those who knew and reverenced 
him feared that his reason was forever extinguished. 
But it kindled again, and with it came a wild de- 
moniac spirit of revenge. The death-groan of Cho- 
corua would make him smile in his dreams ; and, 
when he awaked, death seemed too pitiful a ven- 
geance for the anguish that was eating into his 
soul. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


357 


“ At the time of the murder, Chocorua’s brethren 
were absent on a hunting expedition, and those 
who watched his movements observed that he fre- 
quently climbed the high precipice which after- 
wards took his name, looking out probably for their 
return. Here Campbell resolved to eJBfect his 
deadly purpose. A party was formed under his 
guidance to cut off all chances of retreat, and the 
dusky prophet was to be hunted like a wild beast 
to his lair. 

“ The morning sun had scarce cleared away the 
fogs, when Chocorua was startled by a loud voice 
from beneath the precipice, commanding him to 
throw himself into the abyss below : ‘ The Great 
Spirit gave life to Chocorua, and Chocorua will not 
throw it away at the command of the white man.’ 

“ ‘ Then hear the Great Spirit speak in the white 
man’s thunder,’ exclaimed Campbell, as he pointed 
his gun at the precipice. Chocorua, though as 
fierce and fearless as a panther, had never over- 
come his dread of fire-arms. He placed his hands 
upon his ears to shut out the report ; the next 
moment the blood spirted from his neck, and he 
reeled fearfully on the edge of the precipice. But 
he recovered himself ; and, raising himself on his 
hand, he shouted in a voice that grew more terrific 
as its harshness increased : ‘ A curse upon ye, 
white men ! May the Great Spirit curse ye, when 


358 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


He speaks in the clouds and His words are fire ! 
Chocorua had a son, and ye killed him while the 
sky looked bright. May the lightnings blast your 
crops ! — ^winds and fire destroy your houses ! — the 
evil spirit breathe upon your cattle ! — ^your graves 
lie in the red man’s war-path ! — panthers howl and 
W’olves fatten on your bones ! Chocorua goes to the 
Great Spirit! — his curse stays with the white man.’ 
Still uttering inaudible curses, he died, and they 
left his bones to whiten in the sun. But his curse 
rested on those settlers. The tomahawk and scalp- 
ing-knife were busy among them ; the winds tore 
up trees and hurled them at their dwellings ; their 
crops were blasted, their cattle died, and sickness 
came upon their strongest men. At last the rem- 
nant of them left the fatal spot, to mingle with 
more prosperous colonies, while Cornelius Camp- 
bell became a hermit, seldom seeing his fellow-men, 
and two years after he was found dead in his hut,* 
And to this day the cattle in Burtontown, over 
there, die off with a strange disease, and the peo- 
ple believe it is owing to Chocorua’s dying curse.” 
i “ Muriate of lime, I guess, in the springs,” said 
the stranger, as Eeuben ended the legend. “ What 
you have been telling me is very interesting. I 
have been making notes, you see, and shall put it 
into my book. Really, I am much obliged to you. 

* Abridged from Mrs. Child’s account. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


359 


And you told it with spirit, too ! You must be a 
poet ! Yes, that is beyond doubt the most pictu- 
resque feature in the landscape.” 

“ There is a finer ghmpse of it, sir, from the up- 
per windows of the Old Mill over there, if you care 
to see it,” said Keuben, flushed with excitement. 

“ I’d go anywhere to look at a fine view,’' replied 
the stranger, picking up his hammer and carpet- 
bag, as he rose up from the mossy bank upon which 
he had been half lying. They crossed the brook 
and entered the ruinous building, and climbed up 
the crazy, dilapidated stairs to the long room 
under the roof, which had formerly been used by 
the miller to store away his finest grain in. They 
looked from the window northward, and the stranger 
was enthusiastic, as well he might be, for nothing 
could surpass the grandeur of the view — Chocorua 
towering in the midst, hke a steel-hooded giant ! 
At last there was nothing more to be seen, and the 
stranger turned away from the windows and stood 
scanning the black rafters overhead — then, looking 
up and down, walked quietly towards a rough table 
at the lower end of the room, upon which lay seve- 
ral rudely-hewn blocks of stone and something 
covered with a coarse cloth. 

“I shall have to go now,” said Eeuben, uneasily. 

‘‘What have we here? Wait one moment!” an- 
swered his companion, as with the restless curiosity 


360 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


of a tourist lie pulled aside the cloth and discov- 
ered a finely sculptured head of a woman, the bust 
unfinished. There was a wistful, despairing ex- 
pression in the face, a sorrowful appeal in every 
faultless feature, and the effect was heightened by 
the color of the material out of which it was chi- 
selled — a bluish gray stone, which gave it the ap- 
pearance of an antique. Uttering an exclamation of 
surprise, the stranger turned to Eeuben, and asked 
him ‘‘ whose work it was, and what it meant ?” 

‘‘ I had nothing to do, sir, and I have been ex- 
perimenting a little with the chisel,” answered the 
lad, modestly. “ I spend my mornings here, read- 
ing and chipping; an^ that is a face I tried to 
make like Hagar’s when her child was dying of 
thirst.” 

“ And you have succeeded ! The effect is admir- 
able! But the stone — where did you get the 
stone?” asked the man, cracking a fragment off 
one of the blocks with his hammer, and examining 
it closely through a magnifying glass. 

“I found it a few rods from here,” answered 
Eeuben. 

“ Is it possible ? I have seen no specimens like 
it anywhere before. "Who owns the land ?” 

“ My father — Mr. Flemming.” 

‘‘Ah! — does there seem to be much of it — the 
stone, I mean.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. * 


361 


“ Yes. I found it by accident, while I was look- 
ing for something that I could work easily. It is 
very soft and smooth. I think there’s a good lot 
of it.” 

‘‘ Wliat does your father intend doing with it ?” 
inquired the man, looking keenly at Reuben. 

“ I don’t think he knows anything about it. At 
least he wants to sell the place,” answered guileless 
Reuben. 

‘‘Hasn’t he seen this?” said the stranger, point- 
ing to Hagar. 

“ No. They don’t know how I spend my time 
here; and I haven’t told them, because I was 
afraid they would think it all nonsense,” replied 
Reuben. 

“ It’s not nonsense, certainly. What a situation 
this would be for a summer cottage. I should like 
to buy the place myself, but I fear that I am not 
rich enough.” 

“My father only expects to get two thousand 
dollars for it,” said Reuben, full of zeal. 

“ That’s moderate. The scenery around is al- 
most worth the money. The land don’t seem to be 
much, though.” ^ 

“ Good crops have been got out of it sometimes ; 
but this has been a bad year, and the man who 
lives on it has been too sick to work it,” answered 


362 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Eeuben, standing up bravely for the reputation of 
the land. 

“ I should like to see your father. Where is he 
to be found ?” 

‘‘ I am going home now, and if you like you can 
come with me, sir,” replied Eeuben. “ I know that 
father will be glad to see you ; he is anxious to 
sell as soon as he can.” 

Thank you ; I’ll go.” 

“ How shall I introduce you to my father, sir?” 
asked Eeuben in some embarrassment. 

“ My name is Ethan Cutter — Ethan Cutter,” re- 
plied the man with the hammer. 

Mr. Ethan Cutter had a long interview with 
WoHert Elemming, who received and treated him 
with kind hospitality ; and when he took leave he 
had as good as promised to buy Mill Farm and 
pay two thousand dollars cash for it. This was 
great news for Mrs. Flemming and the girls ; and 
they all praised Eeuben, and were so thankful that 
their father’s troubles seemed to be coming so 
nearly to an end that every one was glad, and so 
cheerful that it seemed quite like the old times 
again. No more anxiety about that dreadful note, 
no more fear of breaking up and leaving their dear 
old home — “and,” said Wolfert Flemming, “ since 
Almighty God has been so good to us, we will go 
to Boston to receive baptism, and be received 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


363 


into the Church. This is the first wish of my 
heart.” 

‘‘ That will be a great happiness, father,” said 
Eva in a low voice. , 

‘‘ It will indeed,” added Hope earnestly. 

‘‘ To think of really receiving those august Sa- 
craments ! Oh, my God!” exclaimed Wolfert Flem- 
ming, folding his hands together and looking up 
with an expression none had ever seen on his face 
before, it is hke the thought of entering into Thy 
very presence.” None of them had ever seen him 
betray emotion hke this before ; it was as if the 
man’s soul were suddenly unveiled and he trans- 
figured before them. No one spoke ; an awe had 
fallen upon them, and to at least some of them his 
words had a deep and sublime significance which 
thrilled their hearts, almost making them still. 
Mrs. Flemming grew very white, and her hands 
dropped into her lap while she sat as if in expecta- 
tion of sometliing, — but nothing more happened ; 
her husband got up quietly and left them, and Eva, 
listening to his retreating footsteps, knew that he 
had gone up stairs into the little sanctuary to pour 
out his full soul at the feet of Jesus and Mary. 

They expected every day to hear from or see 
Ethan Cutter, but were disappointed. Wolfert 
Flemming could not account for his silence; he 
had seemed so eager to buy ‘‘ Mill Farm,” and said 


364 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


SO positively tliat he would return in about ten day 
with the money and take possession ; but the days 
had run into weeks, and he had neither come or 
written! What could it mean? Had the man 
changed his mind? or was he a sharper? He 
might be dead ; he was always scrambling among 
the rocks, — perhaps he had fallen and broken his 
neck ; perhaps he had been waylaid and murdered 
for the money he had about him 1 This surmising 
and expecting was a weary and unprofitable busi- 
ness, and at last they gave it up, feeling blind and 
tired ; but knowing well whose right hand was 
leading them, and having done all that humanly 
speaking they could do, they gravely awaited His 
will, praying for submission to it whatever it 
might be. The bright prospects were clouded 
over, and WoKert Flemming resigned himself to 
the worst. 

In this strait a strange thing happened. One 
evening late, as he was coming from the stables 
wdth the* lantern still alight in his hand, a man ap- 
proached him, gave him a letter, and hurried away 
without speaking, before he could even get a 
glimpse of his face. Thinking it was a strange pro- 
ceeding, he however set the lantern on a barrel and 
opened the letter and read it, his heavy *"eyebrows 
lowering and every vestige of color fading out of 
his face as he read. It ran,'' 


THt: FLEMMINGS. 


365 


‘‘ WoLFEKT Flemming,” 

I know that the waters are rising around you, 
and that certain ruin threatens you. Abjure your 
Papistical errors ; place your candlestick once more 
upon the altar of Gosppl truth ; return at once to 
the pure, simple doctrines which you have aban- 
doned, and I will advance whatever money you 
may need. Elisha Eay.” 

"Wolfert Flemming strode into the house, straight 
to his work-room, and placing the stable lantern 
upon his desk, he wrote : 

I write immediately, lest you fall into the error 
of thinking that I give your offer one moment’s 
consideration. I have this instant received it, and 
suppose it is meant in kindness ; but I call my God 
to witness that nothing which this world contains 
of riches, honors, ease or fame, could induce me to 
deny my faith in the doctrines of the Holy, Apos- 
tohc, Cathohc Church, which is the only true 
Church, and founded by Jesus Christ Himself. 

Yours in Chrisian Charity, 

WoLFERT Flemming.” 

Having folded and directed the letter, he took 
the lantern and went back to the stables, where he 
saddled his horse, and mounting him he galloped 
out into the road, never drawing rein until he got 
to Father Bay’s door, where he dismounted, and 


366 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


knocked in a way tkat broiiglit the old minister’s 
housekeeper quickly to open it. 

Give that to the minister !” he said, handing 
her the letter ; and lose no time.” 

‘‘Land sakes!” she almost screamed, peering 
oyer her spectacles ; “ if it ain’t Elder Flemming !” 

But he had mounted his horse again, and was 
off ; and the woman stood gaping out into the 
night, listening to the tramp of the horse’s hoofs 
with as frightened a look as if she had seen the 
evil one himself ; indeed she believed to the day of 
her death that she had seen him in the likeness of 
the backsliding Elder. 

“Why! where have you been?” inquired Mrs. 
Flemming as her husband came into the sitting- 
room, where they were waiting supper for him. 

“I had a little business to attend to, mother, 
which was unexpected, and gave me no time to 
speak to any of you,” he answered, speaking 
slowly and gently, for his spirit was still ruffled 
and he had need to restrain himself under this 
crowning, humiliating insult. To seek to take ad- 
vantage of his misfortunes by offerng him money 
to abandon his faith — it was almost too much for 
the man’s patience. 

“ Have you heard from that man ?” asked Mrs. 
Flemming eagerly, hoping that the business was 
connected with the sale of Mill Farm. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


367 


‘‘No indeed, mother. I think we may give up 
all expectation of seeing or hearing anything of 
Mr. Cutter again,” he replied. “ It seems hard, I 
know ; but let us trust in God ; we are in His 
hands, and His ways are not as our ways.” 

“ I suppose that He knows best,” she answered 
in a tone so softened and subdued, so unlike her- 
self, that each one’s heart was touched and went 
out with great pity and tenderness towards her. 

Wolfert Flemming said nothing about the old 
minister’s letter, and no further questions were 
asked concerning the business which had taken 
him away in such hot haste from home; but as 
they all sat around him that night in the bright 
ruddy light of the fire, which lit up every nook and 
cranny of the old room — the china and pewter on 
the shelves ; the quaint buffet in the corner, with its 
treasures of silver aU glittering and crinkling and 
flashing just as they did the first time we saw 
them — he talked over his plans with them about 
going to Ohio. It seemed so certain now that their 
home here must be broken up, he deemed it most 
wise and kind to repress any lingering hope they 
might entertain of remaining, by speaking unre- 
servedly of their future, so as to accustom them to 
the thought of their approaching trial. A grave, 
chastened sadness fell upon them, and their tears 
flowed in silence and unchecked ; the very idea of 


368 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


leaving the spot so dear to them was like tearing 
something away which had taken root in their 
hearts; but they thought of each other, and of 
Him who had borne the cross unto death for them; 
and they resolved with His help to bear their 
heavy trial with courage and patience and utter no 
complaint or murmur. 

As there are no chances or accidents in God’s 
universe,” said Wolfert Flemming, “ let us console 
ourselves with the assurance that there are none in 
the affairs of men. If the hairs of our head are 
numbered, and even the fall of the sparrow noted 
by our Father in heaven, can we believe that He is 
blind to the misfortunes and struggles of His crea- 
tures whom He so loved that He gave His only- 
begotten Son to die for them. No, dear wife and 
children, depend upon it that He is working out 
His own designs for our salvation ; and if the ways 
by which He leads us are not pleasant ways, and 
are repugnant to our nature, let us not repine, but 
resign ourselves submissively to His providence, 
looking beyond this transitory life to the exceeding 
great and eternal reward that awaits us if we are 
faithful and patient to the end. 

There was a deep and solemn pathos in his voice 
which fell with almost sacramental power upon 
their souls, calming, consoling and strengthening 
them with the simple, hopeful words he uttered. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


369 


Mrs. Flemming, contrary to her usual habit of late, 
did not go away when the hour of family prayer 
came, but remained hstening patiently to the eve- 
ning devotions — which her husband read with more 
than ordinary impressiveness — to the responses, to 
the Litany of Loretto, to the Conjiteor and all, so 
new and strange to her Puritan ears. No one 
could tell what was passing in her soul as she hs- 
tened ; but she was there. She had stayed of her 
own will, and the man’s heart was gladdened in the 
midst of his sorrows by the sweet hope that she, 
too, would at last seek refuge and consolation in the 
bosom of the One True Faith. 

The next day Eva went into the little Sanctuary 
of Our Lady, her arms full of vines and clusters of 
richly-tinted leaves, to beautify the spot dedica-ted 
to her ; to hang garlands upon her shrine, and 
offer her the last bright hues of the faded summer. 
While engaged in her pious occupation, saying a 
“ Hail Mary ” for every golden-tinted leaf, and an 
“ Our Father ” for the scarlet ones, as she arranged 
them here and there among the trailing vines, her 
mother came to the door to ask some question 
about certain winter garments which she was anx- 
ious to get out, the weather having grown very 
cold. 

‘‘ Yes, mother, they are in the red chest ; I 
packed them there myself,” she answered, 


370 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ And that is the very one I didn’t open,” replied 
Mrs. Flemming, as she lingered a moment to ad- 
mire the beautiful effect produced by the vines — 
which Eva had trained by means of a wire frame- 
work, over the image of the Blessed Virgin — and 
wonder if her child was indeed an idolater — when 
suddenly there was a terrific crash ; a black, suffo- 
cating cloud filled the room, and she could see 
nothing. With a loud shriek which ran through 
the house, and thinking only of Eva’s safety, she 
rushed blindly in to seek her. 

Wolfert Flemming, who happened to be in his 
work-room at the moment, heard the crash over- 
heads — heard his wife’s terrified shriek, and ran up. 
In an instant he stood appalled upon the threshold 
of the door! The whole ceiling was down, he 
judged from the crash, but he could distiuguish 
nothing through the thick cloud of suffocating 
dust ; he could only hear his wife calling wildly on 
Eva, and with a terrible dread of, he scarcely knew 
what, he went in, and groping his way to the win- 
dow threw it wide open ; and as the dust, finding 
an outlet, began to fioat swiftly out, he saw Eva 
kneeling with her arms thrown around the image 
of the Blessed Virgin and the crucifix, as if to pro- 
tect them — her head resting on her arm, her eyes 
closed, her face very white, and a sweet smile upon 
her lips, as if she were asleep dreaming pleasant 


THE FLEMMINGS. 371 

dreams. Her mother stood over her in speechless 
woe, wringing her hands. 

Wolfert Flemming stooped to hft his child in his 
arms, thinking she was dead, when a gentle sigh 
escaped her lips ; the strong current of air from the 
window had revived her — and lifting up her hand, 
she said : “ Mother, I am not hurt.” 

‘‘ Oh, Eva ! — oh, my child ! — I thought you were 
dead !” exclaimed Mrs. Flemming, kneehng down 
to embrace her. 

“I fainted, I believe,” said Eva. ‘‘I couldn’t 
think what it was, and was frightened.” 

“ You have been saved from a sudden and terri- 
ble death by the interposition of the Blessed Vir- 
gin, my child,” said her father, kneeling beside 
them ; “ let us thank her.” 

Eva was not only unhurt, but untouched by the 
fallen mortar. Neither had the fragile plaster 
image of the Blessed Virgin Mary received the 
shghtest injury ; not a leaf was disarranged, not a 
vine displaced ; and the white linen cover of the 
table remained spotless and unlittered by the frag- 
ments! Everything was in the same beautiful 
order upon it, just as it was when Mrs. Flemming 
stood admiring it at the moment of the accident. 
The ceiling must have parted in the middle, just 
over the table, and fallen away on either side ; they 
could not tell exactly how Eva was preserved, and 


372 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


^ ere very willing to ascribe it to the gracious pro- 
tection of her whose devout client she was, and 
were deeply thankful for her deliverance. 

After the excitement of the accident was over, 
and the debris cleared away and things placed in 
order once more — Mrs. Flemming, who had scarcely 
spoken since, but who looked very much flushed, 
and frequently pressed her hands upon her tem- 
ples, suddenly staggered as she was crossing the 
room, and cried out : “ Hope ! Father ! I can’t see. 
Help me ! help — ” and fell fainting in Hope’s arms. 
When she recovered she was in a raving delirium ; 
and when the doctor, who was quickly summoned, 
told them that he feared the worst, the afflicted 
family thought that the last bitter drop had been 
added to the cup of their sorrows. 


OHAPTEE XXIII. 

LIGHT BEHIND THE CLOUD. 

And now the shadow of death fell heavily over 
the Old Homestead, and there was a noiseless 
sorrow within — sorrow for the body and soul of 
her who lay tjiere unconscious of it all ; grief for 
the wife and mother, in whom centered the deep 
love of the afflicted family. All the trials which 
had come surging around them of late — the loss of 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


373 


prosperity, the contempt of the world, the rending 
asunder of strong ties, the prospect of giving up 
the home that they loved with an indescribable 
affection, and going into exile amongst strangers — 
were all nothing to this. In all the rest there was 
something human to grapple with, while they strove 
with a heroic spirit of sacrifice for submission to 
God’s holy will ; but here they were helpless ; her 
life was in the hands of Him who gave it, and they 
could only watch each quick, panting breath, en- 
deavor to soothe the wild outbreaks of her delirium, 
administer the remedies prescribed, and pray that 
if it were His holy will this bitter cup might pass 
from them. They tried to be resigned to the dread- 
ful issue which appeared inevitable — and the honest 
endeavor was much, but it was not submission ; 
and they felt as if their Father in heaven were 
hiding His face from them. Then, as she seemed 
to draw nearer and nearer to the ‘‘ Dark River,” 
and all hopes of her recovery were fading and going 
out in their hearts, the cry of their souls arose far 
above human fears or hopes that Almighty God 
would pity her and grant her the gift of faith be- 
fore she passed into His presence. And they 
offered up the great sorrow — they could do no more 
— in union with the bitter sorrows of Him who 
sweat great drops of blood in the Garden of Geth- 


semane. 


374 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Mrs. Flemming was very near unto death. She 
lay day after day in alternate lethargy and delirium. 
Sometimes she would start up, shrieking, “ I see 
that woman ! Not old Missisquoi — no ! no ! but 
a woman terrible in her brightness ! Hide me from 
her ; hide, oh hide me !” One day she exclaimed, 
her eyes luminous with fever, and staring out be- 
fore her — “ She saved Eva ! I saw her ! It’s no use 
to waste your breath talking, Father Eay. What 
I see I believe ! You are all a set of hard-hearted 
canting Pharisees ! I’ve been watching ye nil, and 
comparing your ways with his, and they are not 
alike ; ha ! ha ! ha ! they’re as far apart as the east 
is from the west. Ye have the word, but not the 
spirit— whitewashed sepulchres that ye are ! Tear- 
ing, tearing like vultures at the tender flesh of the 
pure ill heart ! nagging, like bloodhounds, at the 
life and limbs of the innocents ! Go away, and let 
me sail over the dark, lonely sea ! Is it the ‘ May 
Flower,’ captain ? How strange ! there’s the ‘ May 
Flower’ sure enough, rolling and breaking up 
against Plymouth Eock ! Oh, I’m afraid to go — 
the waters look so black— and there’s the woman ! 
— hide me from her !” And so she raved — some- 
times coherently, as if she saw visions ; sometimes 
wildly, as if horrible dreams were torturing her 
brain ; and they could do nothing but weep and 
lave the burning forehead and hands, and look 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


375 


lovingly, while they prayed, into the wild fever- 
bright eyes which were so unconscious of their 
presence, and kiss the quivering lips upon which 
the short breath fluttered as if every moment it 
might pass away forever. 

It was almost too much for Wolfert Flemming, 
who walked silently in and out, and watched be- 
side her through the long nights, upon his knees, 
holding her thin burning hand in his while he be- 
sought Almighty God to pity them and spare her, 
ever adding : “ But help me to say ‘ Thy will be 
done,’ for of myself I can do nothing.” 

The news of Mrs. Flemming’s illness had gone 
abroad; and many and kind were the inquiries 
daily made by former friends and old neighbors ; 
many were their offers of service. It was their 
duty,” they thought, ‘‘ she being one of them- 
selves and out of human pity for the great grief 
which had fallen upon the backsliding family, they 
sincerely wished to do something kind and neigh- 
borly, although they did not hesitate to say to one 
another, that “ it was only the just retribution of 
heaven on the Flemmings for their apostacy,” and 
looked upon Mrs. Flemming as the victim of their 
sin. Mrs. Wilde came from her distant home, pre- 
pared to stay several days ; even the old minister 
rode over, braving all that might be unpleasant in 
the visit, to pray with and endeavor to console this 


376 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


suffering member of liis flock. But lie was told 
that she was utterly unconscious and the doctor 
had ordered perfect quiet ; and he went away with 
wrath in his heart. Wolfert Flemming thanked all 
who came, but added : “ There is no need, friends. 
We are enough.” And they turned homewards, 
wondering, while they shook their heads, “ if they 
were going to let the woman die without Christian 
help?” 

Huldah was there every day — coming in so 
quietly, with such a sorrowful look in her face, and 
speaking so gently, that Hope and Eva were com- 
forted by her presence ; and many were the httle 
tasks of love deftly done by her swift fingers, which, 
had she not been there, would have taken them 
away from their mother’s bedside. It was a sweet 
labor of love to the girl to anticipate what was 
wanting and go and do it without a fuss. She took 
the neglected dairy under her charge, doing every- 
thing there just as she knew Mrs. Flemming would 
like to have it done ; and, moving quietly to and 
fro through the house, restored all things to perfect 
order and cleanliness, thinking : “ If she gets well, 
she shall have no worry.” For, even a few days 
illness in a family throws the best-ordered domes- 
tic affairs into confusion ; and if the illness is pro- 
longed, nothing is more forlorn than the look of 
neglect that reigns throughout the household. And 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


377 


although there under his roof, and facing with him 
the great sorrow which wrung his heart until he 
wished he might die, Huldah and Nicholas rarely 
exchanged a word with each other — seldom meet- 
ing, indeed, except at the table, where each one 
was so occupied with the subject of Mrs. Flem- 
ming’s illness that nothing else was thought or 
spoken of. 

Once he found her in the old sitting-room, look- 
ing out into the twilight very quiet and very sad, 
her forehead pressed against the window-pane, 
upon which the first snow-flakes of the season were 
drifting and melting, trickling down like tears. He 
watched her for a little while, then walked over and 
stood beside her, and laying his hand upon her 
shoulder, said : “ Have you nothing to say to me, 
Huldah?” 

“Nothing,” she answered, starting round half 
frightened, for she did not know that a soul was 
near her until he spoke. “Less now than ever. ' 
I shall never tell you now.” 

“Not for the sake of my dying mother?” he 
asked. 

“ For her sake — ^no,” she replied with quivering 
lips. 

“ I shall never ask you again,” he said harshly — 
“remember that ;” and he strode out of the room, 
leaving her where she stood weeping silently. 


378 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


But at last there came a day when Hope and 
Eva observed that their mother’s attacks of deli- 
rium were fewer and less violent, and she appeared 
to sleep more quietly. Wolfert Flemming and his 
boys had been out about the place much of the 
day, attending to some matters which could be no 
longer neglected without great loss, and their heavy 
hearts were much hghtened when Huldah met them 
with the good news ; but alas ! the doctor came 
and told them that “ these apparently favorable 
symptoms were the result of increasing weakness ; 
the fever was abating, but he had not the slightest 
hope that she had vitality enough left to tide over 
the crisis.” Implicit confidence in medical opinion 
was not a weakness of these strong-headed, healthy 
people, and somehow they hoped against hope and 
the doctor, and renewed their patient loving watch, 
noting every breath and counting every flutter of 
the weary pulse of their mother, feeling that their 
yearning hearts and firm faith must bring her back 
to them, must stay her feet on the very marge of 
the Dark Eiver ! 

I have now got to a part of my story which, to 
those who have not followed attentively every 
thread, may appear incredible ; but what I am 
going to relate is simply the result of natural 
causes, developed by individuals and circumstances, 
undoubtedly governed by Divine Providence for 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


379 


the good of those who were willing to sacrifice 
every earthly thing for conscience sake. The work- 
ing out of the order of God’s providence upon earth 
is one endless miracle and attestation of His watch- 
fulness over the affairs of His children ; let us not 
be surprised, then, at any manifestation of His 
goodness, be it great or small, but with thankful and 
humble hearts recognize His Almighty hand — 
nothing doubting — and give all glory to Him “who 
hath so loved us.” 

That evening, late, Wolfert Flemming left his 
wife’s bedside, his heart lifted up with thankfulness, 
for he saw much hope in the fact that she lay quiet- 
ly on her pillow in a deep and apparently na- 
tural sleep. He was alone in the quaint old 
sitting-room, half dozing — for in truth he was 
worn out for sleep, and was only kept awake 
by the disagreeable thought which would force 
itself upon him that in ten more days the note, 
which it was impossible for them to meet, would 
fall due. And how then ? Well ! -he was going 
over it all again, when there came a quick rap 
at the door. Thinking that it might be some 
one to inquire after the health of the poor invalid 
upstairs, he stepped to the door and opened it, and 
there stood the man with the hammer — carpet-bag 
and all — smiling and holding out his hand like an 
old friend assured of a warm welcome. The men 


380 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


shook hands, said “ How d’ye do ” to each other, 
and Wolfert Flemming invited him in — an invita- 
tion he was not slow to avail himself of. 

“ I guess,” he said, ‘‘ you thought I’d gone off 
for good and all, Mr. Flemming ; but I had some 
trouble to scrape that money together, you see — .” 

‘‘ Speak lower, friend, if you please ; my wife is 
very ill, and a strange voice might disturb her. In 
fact, Mr. Cutter, I am in no mood for business to- 
night. Some other time — Then he stopped, re- 
membering how much depended on the sale of 
‘ Mill ’ farm, and what happiness it would be to her, 
if she was spared, to find that the note was paid, 
and they were to stay in the old home ; and he 
added: “But, as you please. Just as well now, 
I guess, as any other time.” 

“Well, Mr. Flemming, I sympathize heartily 
with you. I had a trial of the same sort once, 
and know all about it, but business is business, 
and, like time and tide, it waits for no man. I 
come up to-night to conclude the purchase of that 
place down yonder — ‘ Mill ’ farm. I have brought 
the money with me, and should like to settle the 
matter now.” 

Just at that moment one of those prolonged 
piercing shrieks, which his wife had uttered from 
time to time all through her illness, rang through 
the silent house — and Wolfert Flemming started 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


381 


up, saying : ‘‘ I can do nothing about it to-night, 
Mr. Cutter. I must go to my wife. Come up in 
the morning, about ten o’clock, and we’ll have the 
affair settled.” 

« Yery well, Mr. Flemming. That will do ; that 
is, if there’s no one ahead of me offering you 
more ; in which case I’d like to know. For I’ve 
taken a fancy to the place, you see, and won’t be 
out-bid,” he added, looking keenly out of his ferret 
eyes into the pale honest face of Wolfert Flem- 
ming. 

“I have no other bid for the farm, Mr. Cutter,” 
he answered, “ and consider your offer quite 
liberal.” 

“All right. Good-by. I shall be up here at 
ten, sharp,” said Mr. Cutter, going away with a 
well-satisfied look, for he was on the eve of a great 
speculation which would eventually make his for- 
tune — that is, if nothing happened to interrupt his 
plans. 

When Flemming entered the sick room, his wife 
was composed, and sleeping quietly again. “ Oh, 
father !” whispered Eva, “ she looked at me as if 
she knew me ; she did indeed !” 

Later on, while he sat reading the Book of books, 
in the silence and half-gloom of the old room down 
stairs, Hope ran down to tell him that her mother 
had swallowed a wine-glass full of beef tea, and 


382 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


was sleeping and breathing naturally. Once more 
he went up, and stood at the bedside looking at 
her. There was a change — he saw that at once- 
The scarlet flush had faded out of her face, leaw 


ing it very white ; she breathed softly and regular- 


ly, and the wrung, agonized expression had gone 
from her forehead. Tears rushed to his eyes ; the 
strong man gave way — and covering his face with 
his hand, he turned and noiselessly left the room, 
and going into Eva’s oratory knelt before the 
images of JESUS and MAEY to pour out the 
emotions of his grateful soul and implore their 
gracious assistance. The full moon was shining 
through the leafless vines that covered the window, 
lighted up with a peaceful radiance the sacr^ 
images and pure immortelles that were garlan,ded 
with evergreens around the shrine ; and, as he 
prayed, a blessed calm, of which this sc^ne was 
only the type, fell upon his soul, resting tod con- 
soling him. His devotions over, he w^ent to the 
window, and softly opening it, he stood gazing up 
into the ‘‘ limitless realms of the ai^’^’ knowing that 
somewhere in the blue spangled distance its noise- 
less waves laved the land of the hving, the abode 
of God and His saints ; and/^inged by faith, his 
spirit soared beyond the sta;ps and stood upon the 
glorious shores, listening t6 the far-off anthems of 




THE FLEMMINGS. 


383 


and felt for the first time that he could say in spirit 
and in truth : God’s will is my will. Yea ! though 
he slay me, yet will I trust Him.” 

As he stood a moment after closing the window, 
he was startled by the sound of a man’s footsteps 
on the fiagged walk below ; and looking down he 
saw a stooping figure crouched behind the trunk of 
one of the old elms, as if for the purpose of con- 
cealment. Who could it be ? Nicholas was in his 
mother’s room, Reuben was abed. He went down 
— and noiselessly opening the side door, treading 
softly and lightly, he stepped out upon the fiags ; 
and walking swiftly towards the crouching object, 
said : “ Who are you, and what do you want, 
friend ?” 

I don’t want nothin’ ; but don’t’ee be mad with 
me. Elder, I got suthin’ to say that ought to be 
said,” answered the man from under his slouched 
hat. 

‘‘Who are you?” inquired Wolfert Flemming, 
amazed. 

“ Wal, you see, my name’s Wilbur,” he replied 
in great confusion ; — “Wilbur, down there at the 
Mill farm.” 

“ What have you to say, my friend ? Speak 
quickly. Can I do anything for you?” 

“Nothin’, Elder, nothing but to hear what I 
come to say,’*’ replied Wilbur in quivering tones, 


384 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


for Wolfert Flemming’s kindness of manner touched 
him to the quick. 

Of course I am willing to hear whatever you 
may wish to say ; but let us walk a little further 
away from the house ; step on the grass — I fear to 
disturb my wife, who is ill. Now, what is it ?” 

“ Elder !” said Wilbur, still calling him by his 
old title, with an idea that it was respectful and 
pohte to do so ; “ Elder, was that man with the 
hammer up here to-night ?’* 

“ Yes ; why ?” 

“ ’Cause,” answered Wilbur, coming so close to 
him that their faces almost touched, and speaking 
in a sharp whisper, “ ’cause he’s a big rascal. Elder, 
and is tryin’ to cheat you. Now, you see, if it was 
knowed that I came up here on any arrand what- 
somever. Father Ray he’d have my work took away 
from me right off; but I can’t forgit, Elder, all 
that you and yourn done for me and mine ; and — • 
dang it — I don’t want to, nuther ! Only, you know, 
I must look out for the main chance — havin’ all 
them young ’uns to look arter and feed. So, you 
see, I waited until I thought everybody from the 
Lake clean up to Mount Washington was abed and 
sound asleep, before I started. I knowed Miss’ 
Flemming was sick, and knowed that some of the 
family’d be up along with her all night ; and I 
thought I’d run my chance of getting speech with 


THE FLEMMINGS.' 


385 


you afore to-morrow — for then it would be too late. 
I’d have come before sundown, but I was afeard on 
account of my work, you know. How’s Miss’ Flem- 
ming ?” 

“ A little better, we hope,” replied Wolfert Flem- 
ming, who began to think that the man was cer- 
tainly intoxicated. 

‘‘ Bully for her ! Now, you never fear. Elder ; — 
things’ll come straight yet ! I tell you what ! — them 
that wears broad phylacteries, and prays aloud in 
pubhc places, and goes in for crammin’ the Scrip- 
ture down a fellow’s throat, thinks they’ve got the 
world in a sling ; but when God begins to fight 
agin’ ’em they cave in pretty quick. Look here, 
Elder, have you sold Mill farm yet ?” 

“ As good as sold it, Wilbur,” he answered, won- 
dering more and more at the man’s manner. 

‘‘ For how much ?” 

‘‘ Two thousand dollars.” 

“ Gosh ! Look here. Elder Flemming, that ’ere 
place down yonder is worth two hundred thousand 
dollars, if it’s worth a cent !” said Wilbur, emphati- 
cally. 

Thinking more and more that the man was either 
crazy or drunk, Wolfert Flemming determined to 
get rid of him as soon as possible, and said— 
“ Wilbur, my wife is ill, and I can stand here no 
longer. Thank you for risking so much to come 


386 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


up here to inquire after her. But you’d better go 
home and go to bed and was about leaving him, 
when Wilbur laid his hand upon his arm to detain 
him, and whispered : 

“ Just one minit. Elder. I tell you what it is : 
them two smart Boston fellows didn’t know I was 
listening to every word they said. I was down yon- 
der this afternoon, creepin’ in and out amongst the 
bushes to watch where our turkey-hen laid, when 
here the two come, measurin’ and proddin’ and 
turnin’ up the land, and crackin’ away at the stuns 
— ^why, bless you, they’ve been at that these three 
days!” 

“ Who ? — what men, Wilbur ?” 

“ That fellow with the hammer, and another he 
brung up from Boston town. And look here. 
Elder : while I laid there in the furze, flat o’ my 
face, watching which way the turkey-hen went, I 
heard the man with the hammer tell the other how 
he found out the soapstun kerry.” 

“ Soapstone 1 — What soapstone, Wilbur ?” 

“ The soapstun down yonder at Mill Farm, 
Bless your soul. Elder, there’s hull lots of it there ; 
and the way the man with the hammer found it out 
was from seeing suthin’ your boy Beuben had cut 
out of a piece — a woman’s head, I believe ; — then 
he ups and asks Beuben where he found that sort 
♦ Quarry. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


387 


of stun — and the boy he tells him, innocent like, 
where he got it, and what lots of it was where that 
came from — and, not thinking anything wrong, tells 
him the place was for sale. With that he — oh, he’s 
a sharp one. Elder ! — whips up here to see you ; 
and, sayin’ nothin’ to nobody about the kerry, 
offers to buy the place. Then he goes off, you 
know, and jest came back three days ago, bringin’ 
the other fellow with him ; and such a proddin’ and 
measurin’ and chippin’ away at the rocks and stuns 
was a sight for sore eyes. I heard it all, as I tell 
you, this afternoon, while I was watchin’ my tur- 
key-hen ; and I heard that man with the hammer 
say as how you ‘ was a green one, not to know the 
value of your own land ; and that it would be wuth 
nigh a million of dollars that kerry.’ Then says I 
to myself : the elder folks saved my wife and young 
’uns from starvation, and if I can do it without 
bein’ found out I’ll do ’em this good turn as sure as 
I live ; and here I am — and, dang it, I^m thankful 
that you’ve heard it ! ’ 

Wolfert Flemming’s heart almost stood still as he 
listened to the man’s strange recital. He knew full 
well the high commercial value of soapstone ; and, 
if it was true that there was a soapstone quarry 
down there at the farm, what a risk he had run of 
losing all the advantages which a merciful Provi- 
dence had furnished to extricate him from present 


388 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


difficulties and make kis children independent for 
life ; how nearly he had been ruined by a sharp 
and dishonourable man ! There was no reason 
why he should doubt Wilbur’s story, but he deter- 
mined not to act hastily ; he would question Reu- 
ben — and if hi^ wife got no worse, he would go, as 
soon as the sun arose, to examine into the matter 
himself. These were his thoughts as he stood there 
with his great eyebrows lowering over his eyes — 
while Wilbur, who was shivering with cold, watched 
him, wondering if he was going to be so stupid as 
to let that man with the hammer have Mill farm 
for two thousand dollars, ‘‘ with the soapstun kerry 
thrown in for nothin’.” “ See here, Elder,” he said, 
unable to contain himself any longer, “ I’m afeard 
you don’t b’lieve me, anyhow ?’^ 

“ Yes I do, Wilbur, and thank you for your friendly 
act. Depend upon it, if that quarry turns out well, 
you shall never suffer for work again,” he answered, 
while he grasped the man’s hand. 

“ ’Nough said. Elder ; I’d risk my life for any of 
your folks — be sure of that,” said Wilbur. “ You 
look out sharp for that fellow ; and I hope Miss’ 
Flemming’ll be on the mend soon. Good night.” 

“Good night, my friend. You shall hear some- 
thing from me to-morrow.’^ 

When Wolfert Flemming went back to the sit- 
ting-room he found Nicholas there, ready to relieve 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


389 


him and watch the rest of the night. ' Eeuben was 
with him, cuddled up close to the fire, with a 
sleepy, happy, dreamy look in his face. They told 
him that their mother was still sleeping, and had 
not started once since he left the room. This was 
good news ; then, instead of going to bed, he sat 
down with them and told them all that had hap- 
pened. 

“ It^s true, father. I did find this nice soft stone 
early in the summer ; don’t you remember how my 
little mammy laughed at me, and scolded when I 
told her I was hunting for soft stone ? But I found 
it ; and I’ve been chipping away down yonder at 
the Old Mill these three months, making things out 
of it ; and didn’t tell anybody, because I was afraid 
you’d say it was nonsense, and be worried with me 
for idling away my time. There’s lots and lots of 
it there, father V 

How did Cutter happen to find it out ?” 

“We met, one day, down there at the brook ; and 
he began asking me questions about the scenery, 
and got me to tell him the story of Chocorua ; then 
I took him up into the mill, to show him the view 
from the north window; and — and — well, father, 
after that he began to spy ’round, and went and 
uncovered something I was making, and asked me 
right off where I got that stone. I told him, and 
then I let him know that the place was for sale, 


390 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


and thought I was doing great things,” said Eeu- 
ben, his arms folded on his father’s knees — and his 
beautiful face, Ht up by the ruddy fire, uplifted and 
beaming. 

“ And so you did, Euby, as it turns out,” an- 
swered his father, smoothing back the golden tan- 
gles from the boy’s forehead ; then he leaned down 
and kissed it ; and, telling Nicholas to call him at 
six o’clock, went into the next room to lie down. 
And Nicholas made Eeuben go over it all again, 
and tell him exactly where the quarry lay, and 
what he had been about all summer at the Old 
Mill — and what he said, and what the man with the 
hammer said — until the boy’s patience began to 
give out ; then sturdy Nick said, looking with wide- 
open eyes at him, as if he discovered something 
about him he’d never seen before, ‘‘ It’s a funny 
thing altogether, Euby, that you, idling around all 
the time, should be of more use after all than any 
of the rest of us, who have worked from sunrise to 
sunset, until our hands are like iron, while yours 
are like velvet. I don’t know how it is ; it seems 
as if there’s a chink in the world for everybody, 
and that nobody but the right one will fit in it. 
But I’m mighty glad, old fellow ! I never was so 
glad of anything in my life, and never expect to be 
again, until I see mother sitting there in her old 
‘May-Flower chair,’ knitting stockings.” Hero 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


391 


the great, tender-hearted fellow twinkled a tear off 
his eyelashes, and pretended to use his handker- 
chief. “And I tell you what I’m going to do, 
Euby, if mother is better to-morrow.” 

“What?” asked Eeuben. 

“ I’m going to punch Cutter’s head against the 
biggest block of soapstone I can find, for trying to 
come such a swindle over my father. Why, just 
think of it ! If it hadn’t been for you and Wilbur 
— of all people on earth — father would have been 
cheated and ruined, and everything gone to 
smash !” 

“ She'U be so glad — poor little mammy ! — to find 
everything straight again when she’s better,” mur- 
mured Eeuben. “ Won’t she, Nick ?” 

“ I guess she will. And I tell you what ! it’ll 
make them stare who have been trying to grind 
my father to powder — because he loved God better 
than the world — when they find out that he has 
gained more than he lost. Whew !” said Nicholas, 
snapping his fingers while he indulged in a little 
pardonable exultation, “won’t old Daddy Eay 
preach a sermon about Dives, though ! and declare 
that God has punished father with riches, that in 
the end he may share that miserable cove’s bed of 
flame, and call upon him and Deacon Sneathen in 
vain for a drop of water to cool his tongue !” 

“What nonsense you are talking, Nick. Lie 


392 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


down there on the settle, and keep quiet — I’m 
sleepy,” said Eenben, amused at Nick’s outburst, 
so human and so natural ; adding, ‘‘ you know I 
have to go with father, to show him where the 
quarry is ; so be quiet, and l^t me nod a little. I 
guess, Nick, mother’ll have a good lime now, stuff- 
ing her pillows with soft stone — won’t she ?” And 
he laughed a quiet little laugh, as he sat looking 
down into the glowing coals. 

Mrs. Flemming’s condition grew no worse, and 
towards sunrise Eenben and his father were on 
their way towards the Old Mill. When Hagar was 
unveiled, and the red hght of the golden sunrise 
streamed in upon her, WoKert Flemming started 
back, forgetting for an instant what had brought 
him there. “ It’s the image of your mother, Eeu- 
ben !” he said. 

‘‘ Yes, father ; I’ve seen her look so very often of 
late. I call it Hagar, because I think Hagar must 
have looked so when Ishmael was dying of thirst !” 

‘‘ And this is your little mystery, my lad?” 

“ Not quite all, father. I’ll tell you the rest of it 
sometime,” replied the boy, with a troubled look. 

“ I’ll trust you, my son ; and premise you here, 
in all the sacred faith of a father’s dear love, that, 
should prosperity result from your discovery, you 
shall go to Eome to study, and cultivate this won- 
derful talent which God has given you.” 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


393 


“ O, father ! father ! I shall ask for nothing 
more or better on earth ! ’ exclaimed the boy, clasp- 
ing his hands. Then, almost beside himself with 
excitement, he showed his father the blocks of 
soapstone which he had dug up and hewn out him- 
self with such labor and exertion that many a time 
he had fallen fainting to the earth while he worked ; 
and Wolfert Flemming, on examining them, found 
them to be genuine steatite of the finest quality. 
Hurrying out, they walked swiftly down to the 
quarry, where Eeuben pointed out the valuable 
stone cropping out amongst the furze and under- 
growth in every direction. He was satisfied — more 
than satisfied — his full heart overflowing with grati- 
tude to Almighty God and adoring the ways of His 
providence, as he walked homewards, thinking of 
fer, ever of her, and the great happiness that pros- 
perity would bring her, after the sharp, sudden re- 
verses and anxieties of the past. And he thought 
too of the great power that riches would give him, 
for good ; if Almighty God prospered him he should 
regard himself as his steward and nothing more, 
and labor justly in the service of the poor and 
suffering ; so that when the end came, he should 
hear the blessed sentence : “ Well done, good and 
faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of the 
Lord !” For this aim, he would indeed make 
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness. Full 


394 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


of such thoughts as these, Wolfert Flemming 
scarcely felt the earth under his feet until he 
reached his own door. Going in, he found Hope busy 
preparing fresh nourishment for her mother, and 
learned that she still slept quietly and peacefully. 

By-and-by, Martha Flemming awoke once more 
to life and consciousness, knowing the dear faces 
bending over her; but so weak — oh, so weak — 
that she could only look slowly from one to an- 
other without speaking. The fever was gone. 
“ But,” said the doctor, croaking like an old raven, 
“ the worst is to come. She is very feeble, and 
may not have strength enough left to rally; but feed 
her up with beef tea and brandy ; keep everything 
quiet and she may — ^mind ! I don’t say she will — get 
well.” But they felt, somehow, that Almighty God, 
in answer to their fervent prayers, was going to 
spare her to them ; so what the doctor said did not 
trouble them much ; full of hope and thankfulness, 
they only thought of following out his sensible di- 
rections. Hovering around their mother as noise- 
lessly as sun-bright shadows, they w^atched her 
countenance and watched her pulse, and on the 
slightest indication of increased weakness adminis- 
tered the warm nourishing beef tea and the life- 
giving stimulant. She was too weak to utter a 
word ; she was as pallid as death, and wasted to a 
shadow— but alive, and conscious, and calm ! 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


395 


Truly, they lifted up their hearts aud were glad. 
Nothing should trouble them now. They would 
jojdEully bear all things since she was saved. 

Ethan Cutter came that morning at the hour ap- 
pointed — with a confident, beaming, and well- 
satisfied expression of countenance — his pocket- 
book gorged with crisp hundred dollar bills, papers 
made out ready for signing, and jubilant over the 
near termination of his dishonest plans. His dis- 
appointment and fury can be better imagined than 
described when Wohert Flemming told him in grave, 
firm tones, and few simple words, that ‘‘he had 
changed his mind about ‘Mill’ farm, and should not 
sell it.’ 

He insisted on knowing the reasons, in a voice of 
suppressed fury ; and although he had no right to 
know, Wohert Flemming, in his quiet level tones, 
his grave handsome face unruffled in the least of 
its lines, told him that a “ recent discovery of a 
valuable soapstone quarry upon the place, by his 
son, which he had only learned last night, had de- 
cided him, very naturally, not to dispose of the pro- 
perty.” Then the man’s fury broke loose. His dis- 
honest schemes, his dreams of wealth, his glittering 
castles in the air, were suddenly crumbled, and came 
tumbling about his ears like the burnt, blackened 
sticks of brilliant firework ; and he raved and 
threatened and beat the table with his hammer at 


396 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


such a rate, that Nicholas seized him by his 
shoulders and turned him neck and crop out of the 
house, never relaxing his hold until he had run him 
like a wheelbarrow, a full quarter of a mile ; then 
he gave him a kick which sent him whirling down 
the steep hill at a speed which brought him flat on 
his face when he reached the bottom. I don’t 
know how I can excuse Nicholas, unless you will 
take into consideration that he knew the least ex- 
citement might prove fatal to his mother, and the 
fellow was making himseK heard all over the house 
— and that he could no more have stood there and 
heard his father insulted again than he could have 
caught a streak of lightning and tied it up in a 
bow-knot. He certainly felt better after it ; and 
when his father reproved him for his violence, his 
only reply was : “ I couldn’t help it, sir. I in- 
tended to punch his head against the quarry, and 
I’m thankful I didn’t. Not that he don’t deserve 
it, for trying to swindle you — then coming up here 
putting my mother’s life in danger, and insulting 
you before your children ! Jehosaphat !” 

“ Let us forget it, Nick — and forgive. God has 
been very good to us — too good for us to soil the 
gratitude we owe Him by thoughts of uncharita- 
bleness and violence,” said Wolfert Flemming, in 
that grave musical undertone of his that sounded 
like one of the minor keys of an organ. Then 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


397 


Nicholas said no more about the matter. But he 
felt very well satisfied, and laughed in his sleeve 
whenever he thought of Ethan Cutter’s absurd ap- 
pearance while engaged in that involuntary race , 
which terminated so ignominiously, and he could 
not to save his life, feel sorry for having been the 
cause of it. 

Presently he began to ask his father some ques- 
tions about working the quarry. Sanguine and 
full of expectation of immediate results, Nicholas 
had not given the subject a single practical 
thought ; his mind was full of chaotic ideas of 
wealth to be made suddenly available, which would 
place them all far beyond the reach of every earthly 
care ; consequently his father’s words almost took 
away the young man’s breath. 

“ The discovery is a valuable one,” he answerd 
slowly ; but to work the quarry will require some 
capital — which I do not possess ; and I can think 
of nothing now, Nick, except that note which will 
be due in a few days, and which I cannot meet. I 
may be able to raise the balance on a fresh mort- 
gage, or even by selling an interest in the quarry ; 
but I don’t know! I am in God’s holy keeping; 
and, having done all that I can, I shall await His 
divine will, trusting Him to the end.” 

Nicholas had not thought of all this — and it 
came down upon his warm, glowing visions, and 


398 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


proud, fond anticipations like a douche of ice-water, 
‘‘It was too hard,” he thought, “that with all this 
untold wealth lying in the earth at their very feet, 
his father could not raise a few paltry hundreds to 
save his credit and his honor. Of course the note 
would be protested at the old bank down there at 
Plymouth ; there seemed to be no help for it.” 
The young man gnashed his teeth ; he would have 
sold himself into slavery to have saved his father 
— he would have died for him — but nobody up 
there bought slaves, and there was no one who 
would have thought it worth while to set a price on 
his life ; and the fact forced itseK upon his mind, 
that however great and humiliating the trial, he 
would have to wait and bear it when it came. 
Then Nicholas Flemming wished in his soul that 
he was a Christian in deed and in truth, with the 
courage and resignation to bear nobly for God’s 
sake whatever troubles He might send. 

“But I am not a Christian,” thought Nick; 
“ I’ve never been baptized, and know nothing about 
it ; but I’ll try to bear it like a man, come what 
may ; and, if God spares me, I’ll help my father 
with a will, and never rest until he gets on his feet 
again.” Then Nicholas went out to take a smoke, 
and wonder at things which no philosopher, or 
prophet, or theologian, or sage has ever been able 
to explain satisfactorily, and never will — for He 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


399 


who holds the balance only knows why this is put 
into one scale, and that in the other ; why the in- 
nocent suffer and the guilty triumph and prosper ; 
why His Church bears the stigmata while the 
world is crowned with a diadem and arrayed in 
purple. 


CHAPTEE XXIV. 

HOW THE CLOUD PASSED AWAY AND THE LIGHT SHONE. 

“ Yes, Hope, your mother is quite out of danger. 
Give her some broiled chicken to-day, and a slice 
of toast with her tea. But she mustn’t eat too 
much at a time — mind that! People who are 
getting over a low fever never know when they have 
enough,” said the doctor, one morning as he was 
going away. 

‘‘ I’ll feed her like a motherless bird,” answered 
Hope, laughing. “ Indeed, doctor, I am so happy 
and thankful I don’t know what to do with myself. 
Under God, your skill and attention have saved my 
mother’s hfe.” 

‘‘ Well, I don’t know about that. Your mother 
has a pretty tough constitution of her own to begin 
with. But I had no hope of her at one time, I as- 
sure you ; she was pretty nigh gone, and 1 did 


400 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


nothing but come and look at her, and feel her pulse 
for three days. It was her tough constitution 
brought her through.’’ 

‘‘ And,” thought Hope, “ the compassion of God, 
in answer to our prayers.” But she kept her 
thoughts to herself, for the old doctor, who had got 
his diploma in Paris, was very atheistical in his 
notions, and would not have understood her. 

‘‘ And see here, Hope,” he said, with one foot in 
the stirrup, I think you might fix some pillows 
and blankets on that lounge in your mother’s room, 
and let your father and Nick lift her very gently 
and lay her upon it. It will rest and refresh her. 
And remember : she’s not to be excited about any- 
thing at all. Good day.’*’ 

It was a happy day for the Plemmings, and fer- 
vent were the thanks which they offered Almighty 
God for the restoration of the beloved one. They 
gathered around her, as she lay upon the lounge, 
as white as the pillows on which she reposed, and 
so feeble that she could only speak in whispers, 
and thought that she was the loveliest and most 
precious sight on earth. A bright fire crackled 
and blazed merrily on the red hearth, and the sun 
shone warmly through the white curtains, making 
arabesque shadows of the leafiess boughs of the 
old elms upon them. Beuben, in a quiet transport, 
had cuddled himself upon the floor close beside his 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


401 


mother — his head resting against the lounge, his 
hand clasping hers, which every now and then he 
softly kissed, looking supremely happy. Her eyes 
full of patient love followed her dear ones as they 
moved to and fro about the room, watching their 
incomings and outgoings — glad when they came, 
and looking after them with wistful, tender glances 
when they went. There was a look of deep, placid 
content in her face, a sort of spiritualized expres- 
sion, which seemed to come from some higher 
cause than the healthful reaption of the vital forces. 
Hope and Eva had noticed, since their mother had 
recovered her consciousness, that she would some- 
times lay with her eyes closed, her hands folded on 
her breast, and her lips moving as if in prayer. 
There had been no hour of the day or night while 
she lay helpless and unconscious, that prayers, with 
the silent appeal of tears, were not offered to 
heaven for her ; there was not an hour of the day 
or night now that they did not offer thanks, and 
pray for her conversion to the True Faith. 

One evening Wolfert Flemming sat alone with 
her. The night shadows had crept into the room, 
and the firelight played upon the wall in grotesque 
forms, flickering up and down like the figures of an 
elfin dance. He thought she was sleeping — she 
lay so quiet; but when he closed his book and 
looked towards her, he observed her lips moving 


402 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


and her hands folded in an attitude of prayer. 
Presently she opened her eyes — and seeing him 
standing there, smiled and held out her hand. 

“ Mother,” he said very gently, as he drew his 
chair close to her bedside and held her attenuated 
hand in his, ‘‘would it be a comfort to you to see 
the minister ? If it will, I will go for him now.” 

“No,” she answered, after a pause, in which it 
was evident that a struggle was going on in her 
mind ; “ no, I am going to tell you something that 
will surprise you.” 

“ Had you not better wait until you get 
stronger?” he asked. 

“ No ; it will do me good to relieve my mind. I 
shall never get stronger with this weighing on me 
as it does,” she replied. 

“ I hope I may be able to help you, dear wife,” 
he answered. “What is it that you wish to tell 
me ?” 

“ You know, father,” she began, “ what a bitter 
trial your change of religion was to me, and how 
deeply grieved I was that Eva and Hope should 
have followed your example — how angry and dis- 
appointed when they ruined their earthly prospects 
for the sake of a rehgion which I thought worse 
than idolatrous;” 

“Yes, mother. You should have, been spared it 
all, if the issue had been a merely earthly one ; 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


403 


there’s no sacrifice that I and your children would 
not have made to spare you a single unnecessary 
pang ; but this was an affair upon which the salva- 
tion of our souls depended — an affair which lay 
between Almighty God and our own souls for all 
eternity,” he answered in low earnest tones. 

“ I know it ; I know it now,” replied Mrs. Flem- 
ming with quivering lips. “ It caused me such 
suffering of mind as I had never imagined, and the 
unchristian treatment you received at the hands of 
those who had been your friends and brethren was 
like gall and wormwood added to it. Then I be- 
gan to contrast the patient firmness, the cheerful 
humility and deep faith of you Catholics, with the 
fierce, unrelenting, persecuting spirit of the people 
of my own sect. And through it all I was troubled 
about our Saviour’s words concerning the Bread of 
Life. I tried to stop thinking about it — but could 
not. Having got thus far, I began to read your 
Catholic books by stealth, and my mind got so 
torn and tossed between my pride and my con- 
science, that I used to think sometimes that I was 
going stark crazy. Then one night I was going 
past that room — Eva’s room — and heard you, as I 
thought, praying. I stood at the door and listened, 
and heard every that you and Eva said about the 
Mother of Jesus ; and oh, husband, it never left 
me an instant, but kept going on, and on, and on> 


404 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


in my mind, day and night, waking and sleeping. 
I had been more than usually exercised the day 
the ceiling fell. You know I was at the door, 
speakmg to Eva, when it gave way; and as it 
came crashing down I thought I saw the image 
suddenly grow large and bright, and stretch out its 
arms to save her. But that was owing, I guess, to 
the excited state of my mind, and the terrible, ter- 
rible fright ! An hour or two afterwards I fell ill, 
and began to dream of her — and I kept on dream- 
ing and dreaming constantly about her. It seemed 
to me that she was always standing by me, and 
told me that she had promised Eva to take care of 
me. But I was afraid of her : she was ‘ as bright 
as the sun, as fair as the moon, and as terrible as 
an army in array.’ The books I have read, and 
your example — oh, husband ! -—I am vanquished ! I 
give up! All that you believe I believe. Take 
me with you into the fold of Faith, for I have been 
like one lost in the wilderness.” 

‘^Oh, my God!” murmured the man, almost over- 
come, “how can I thank Thee for this?” This 
answer to his prayers for her was so unexpected, 
full and complete, that he was filled with a joy akin 
to awe ! He covered his face with his hands and 
bowed his head, and what passed in his soul was 
known only to Him by whose grace salvation had 
come to him and his household. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


405 


“ Wife, this is good news ; the very best I ever 
heard in my life,” he said at last. 

“ Help me, and pray for me,” said Mrs. Flem- 
ming. I have been wishing to tell you, but was 
too weak.” 

‘‘ Truly are we united now, in one faith and one 
hope ; together, dear wife, we will work out our 
salvation ; and together, I hope ere long, we, with 
our children, will be received into the One True 
Fold, and partake of the Bread of Eternal Life. 
Oh, wife ! this moment foreshadows heaven !” ex- 
claimed Wolfert Flemming, full of a profound emo- 
tion in which adoration and thanksgiving were so 
blended that earthly language could not express it. 

I will leave it to you to imagine the joy of Mrs. 
Flemming’s children when their father related to 
them what I have related to you. Truly did they 
realize upon earth the joy of the angels in heaven 
over a rescued soul ! 

One day, the very day before the note fell due, 
Nicholas Flemming came home from Wier’s Land- 
ing, where he had been on an unsuccessful errand 
to raise money on the quarry, and brought in two 
letters from the post-office — one for his father, and 
one for Reuben. Eva was up stairs with her 
mother ; Hope and Huldah Sneathen were sitting 
together, talking and sewing by the bright fire- 
light; Wolfert Flemming was reading in his old 


406 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


Lutheran Bible the psalms of David, while Eeuben, 
at his side, was poring over the less exalted strains 
of “ Tommy Moore.” 

Here’s a letter for you, father, and here’s one 
for you, Euby, from your friend, Patrick McCue. 
How do you do, Huldah ? I’d like some supper, 
Hope ; I’m half famished.” It was clear that 
Nick was in a disagreeable humor, and Hope be- 
stirred herself to make him comfortable as quickly 
as possible. Huldah looked frightened, but not at 
Nick’s grimness ; she was watching WoKert Flem- 
ming as he turned the letter over, held it up to the 
candle-light to examine the superscription, and 
finally broke the seal and unfolded it. Something, 
several somethings, slipped out and fluttered down 
upon the pages of the old Bible ; very crisp and 
clean they were, with a great deal of figuring and 
printing over them ; but he did not heed them, 
and went on reading the letter to the end, while a 
strange paleness overspread his face, and his hands 
trembled as he held it near the hght. 

‘‘ Come here, Hope,” he said, “ and read this aloud. 
I don’t know : perhaps I have made a mistake 
and he passed his hand over his forehead, still heed- 
less of what had fallen out of the letter. And 
Hope read aloud : 

Deak Friend : 

I have been wishing to write to you for the last 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


407 


six weeks, but had to wait for something I wanted 
to send. Yesterday I got it : twenty-five thousand 
dollars, which the city of Boston has paid for a lot 
of land they’re going to build the new State House 
on ; and I send you five thousand on loan, and ask 
you, as a favor, to apply it to that mortgage busi- 
ness of yours. You can pay me the interest until 
I ask you for the principal. It will be no use to 
send it back, because when you are reading this I 
shall be half way to Europe, I intend to throw 
away the balance in having a good time while I’m 
abroad ; so if you don’t take care of the five thou- 
sand for me, I shan’t have a cent to begin with 
when I get back, which won’t be for three years. 
Give my love to all the family, and ask them to 
think of the wanderer sometimes. When you see 
Huldah — bless her soul ! — tell her I thank her for 
having written, and didn’t answer her letter for the 
same reasons given above. I have written to Euby. 
With affection and respect, dear Mr. Flemming. ^ 
I am sincQrely your friend, 

George Merill.” 

“ Was that your secret, Huldah ?” asked Nicholas, 
whispering over her shoulder. 

“ Yes,” she replied almost inaudibly. 

‘'Forgive me, Huldah?” he asked humbly. 

“ Yes,” she whispered. All this was in a mo- 
ment, while Hope was gathering up the five bank 


408 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


bills, of a thousand dollars each, which were scat- 
tered over the pages of the old Bible. One had 
fallen on the floor, and the cat was playing with it. 

“ It is really true, then,’’ said Wolfert Flemming, 
rousing himself as from a dream. “ Thanks be to 
God ! thanks be to God !” 

“ It’s just like George Merill !” said Hope, laugh- 
ing and crying. 

Here’s more,” said Reuben, holding up two 
bank bills towards his father, while his beautiful 
face glowed with delight. ‘‘ Here, father ! I told 
you I’d show you my letter when it came. Read it 
out ; I don’t care who hears it now. Here’s the 
money ! Mr. Adams paid two hundred dollars for 
my Peri.” 

It was true. Reuben had sculptured the “ dis- 
consolate Peri waiting at heaven’s gate designed 
and sculptured it, and packed it and sent it two 
months before to George Merill to sell for him ; 
|nd George Merill not only sold it, but wrote the 
most distracting things that had been said about 
it ; and sent him several highly favorable art criti- 
cisms, which he had cut from the Boston papers, in 
which it was pronounced to be the most wonderful 
attempt of untaught genius that had ever been 
seen this side of the Atlantic. I can’t tell one-half 
of all the kind and appreciative things that were 
said about it ; but Ruby was filled with new life ; 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


409 


he knew now that he .had not been idling his life 
away, but had been blindly working out his voca- 
tion, and making much of the talent Almighty God 
had given him. 

I must go up and tell my Httle mammy !” said 
the boy, so delighted and exhausted that he felt as 
if he trod upon air. “ I guess she won’t want me 
to knit stockings and churn now.” 

‘‘ Eeuben, my lad,” said his father, while an in- 
describable expression of peace lit up his noble 
face, not to night. Mother is feeble, and all this 
joy might make her ill again. God is very good to 
us, my children. Huldah, dear child, I thank you 
for all that you have done. I could not have asked 
this favor of George myself ; but coming in this way, 
through you and him, I cannot refuse it, particularly 
since I know how easy it will be for me to repay 
him when I begin to work the quarry. I will go up 
and send Eva to you. Tell her — ,” and Wolfert 
Flemming left the room, his heart very full. Hul- 
dah was crying softly, her head on Nick’s shoulder 
and his arm about her waist, ready to thump his 
own head for ever having doubted her ; but before 
they separated that night , Huldah was herself 
again, and threatened to marry her father’s partner 
the next day if he didn’t walk very straight — which 
he did. Eva was speechless when she heard the 
news. Nicholas thought she would be enthusiastic, 


410 


THE il^MMINGS. 

and write a gushing letter that night to Greorge 
Merill to come home and marry her ; “it was 
nothing more,’Mie said “ than she ought to dp 
but she didn’t; she only looked around on them 
all with a pleased, happy smile, kissed Beuben, 
and went up to the little Sanctuary of Our Lady, 
where she spent half the night in sweet thanks- 
giving and communions with her, oJffering herself, 
soul and body, as her handmaid and servant, to be 
presented as a holocaust to her Divine Son. 

That night Wolf ert Flemming read the Psalm 
Confitemini at prayer time ; nothing could 

have expressed better all that he felt ; nothing 
could have been more appropriate ; and the exalted 
words fell from his lips in deep musical tones, each 
heart responding to them in humble thanksgivings 

“ Hope,*’ said Nicholas that night, as they lin- 
gered in the quaint old sitting-room, after the 
others had gone to bed ; “ even the old rafters 
look bright to-night. I believe those things in the 
hiiffet are dancing a jig; just see how the light 
from the fire darts around them. Everything looks 
as if rainbows were hanging about the room. I 
never was so happy in my life. How jolly it will 
be to-morrow, when mother knows what has hap- 
pened; Forgive me, dear Hope — had forgotten 
about John Wilde,” said Nick, kissing her. 

*Psalm evi. ^ 


THE FLEMMINGS. 411 

-^‘M haye not forgotten John,”' answered Hope, 
while Nick ; tenderly wijied the tears from her 
cheeks. I shall never forget him. But I am very 
happy. I am content. It is a very sweet thing to 
live for others;” Andoit did, indeed, seem so to 
her ; and no one ever heard her speak of John 
Wilde again; until — but I won’t anticipate the 
sequeLv; oniO ■ . ^ ■ ■ 

The next day, Mrs. Flemming, freshly dressed and 
looking much better' than she had done since her 
illness, was sitting propped up by pillows in her 
bed, trying d)o knit— her fingers not much larger 
than jack-straws as she slowly took up the stitches 
and threw the fine yarn over the glittering needles 
— when her husband came, and by arrangement 
found her alone. : 7^ 

You feel strong to-day, mother ?” he said, as he 
stationed himself upon the rug, and with an amused 
expression watched her indefatigable efforts to slip 
back into her old industrious habits.c^ ":!" r • ^ - u 

“I feel as chipper as that robin whistling out 
there by the window,” she answered, cheerfully. 

I tell you, father, that I feel like one risen from 
the dead, in a two-fold sense. What day of the 
month is it?’ ' 

“ The first of December !” he replied, watching 
her keenly, for he almost dreaded the effects of 
what he had to tell her, upon her nerves, -o o c.. ' 


412 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


“ Ah ! have I been ill so long ? And this is — 
Well, father, let the past be with the past ; it would 
seem ungrateful to fret and repine, since God 
has been so good and merciful to us. I shall be 
ready very soon now to go to Ohio,” she added, 
hesitating a little at first, then speaking more 
blithely. 

“ I don’t think we shall go to Ohio just yet,” he 
replied. 

“ I should like to know ! I thought it was all set- 
tled, if that money — ” 

Wife,” he . said, “ are you strong enough to hear 
some good news ?” 

‘‘ I guess I am. It will do me good,” she replied 
with an expectant look. 

Well, then, we shall not go to Ohio. We shall 
not be compelled to break up our old home, or even 
to sell Mill farm.” 

« Why ! the land’s-sake !” she exclaimed, dropping 
her hands upon the coverlid, and fixing her eyes 
upon him with an eager alert expression in them 
which half frightened him. “ That is good news. 
I feel it through me ! Why, father ! how did it 
come about ?” 

“ First through Euby.” 

‘‘ Euby, Euby — my baby !” she murmured softly, 
while a happy smile lit up her pale, thin face. 
‘‘ Go on.^’ 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


413 


“Yes, indeed! Your boy took to sculpturing 
images ; and while looking round for some soft kind 
of stone to work in, he discovered a valuable quarry 
of soapstone at Mill farm !” 

‘‘ He did ! And to think how provoked I was at 
him that day, when he told me he had been search- 
ing for soft stone 1 I thought he was crazy.” 

‘‘ Well, he found it, but said nothing, as he was 
ignorant of its great value; and it was only after 
Cutter came the other day, to pay for the farm, 
that I heard a word about it.” 

“ You have seen Cutter, then ?” she inquired anx- 
iously. 

“ Yes, mother, he came back a few days ago, and 
brought the money to pay for it ; but you were ill, 
and I told him to come the next morning ; for I 
knew — or I thought I knew — how much depended 
on my getting the money for it.” 

‘‘ And you didn’t let him have it ? Don’t tell me 
that he got it!” 

“ No, I heard about the quarry that night.” 

“ How in the land — ?” 

“ Wilbur came up here at midnight, and told me 
about it.” 

“ Wilbur ! ” repeated Mrs. Flemming, as if 
scarcely comprehending how, by any chance upon 
earth, that shiftless, ungrateful man had got to be 
mixed up in their affairs. Then Wolfert Flemming 


414 


THE FLEMMINGS: 


sat down by lier side and told everything that bad 
happened, from Wilbur’s midnight visit to George 
MeriU’s letter; he dwelt with softened voice on 
Huldah’s kindness, informed her of Eeuben’s suc- 
cess, not omitting the smallest detail as he went on. 
When she heard how her great bear, Nick, had 
served the-man-with-the-hammer, she laughed but, 
and said ^‘it served him right.” Then he gave her 
Greorge Merill’s letters to read, and showed her the 
new crisp bank bills he had sent, and asked her how 
shefelt? 

I feel well. There’s no cordial could have done 
me half the good that your news has. Oh, hus- 
band! help me to thank God; He has been so 
patient and mercifuL” And kneehng down beside 
her,, he lifted up his voice and poured out the 
adoration and gratitude of his soul to God for all 
His mercies, for all the trials wherewith they had 
been chastened, and, above all, he thanked Him 
for the gift of faith which had been vbuchsafed to 
him and his household, and for giving new hfe, 
spiritually and corporally, to her who, not yet risen 
from her bed of sickness, lifted up her soul with 
his in genuine faith, true hui^ility and fervent 
gratitude unto the Giver of every good and perfect 
gift. The prayer tranquillized and composed Mrs. 
riemming ; and the soft, happy tears she shed 
seemed brightened with the bow of a new covenant, 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


415 


and refreshed her body as chrism refreshes and 
strengthens the soul. 

“ Now, wife, God bless you,” he said, as he leant 
over and kissed her; “ it is nearly eight o’clock, 
and I must gallop down to Plymouth to pay that 
note, and attend to some other business.” 

“ Be careful of your wallet, father. You might 
drop it,” she said, as she gathered up her knitting 
once more ; “ and send Huldah to me if she is hot 
gone.” 

“I’ll be careful — depend upon that, mother,” 
he answered, thinking how natural it was to hear 
the cautious, thrifty nature of the httle woman 
cropping out once more. He took it as one of the 
best symptoms of a healthy recovery, and went on 
his way rejoicing. 

Long and sweet was tlie interview between Mrs. 
Flemming and Huldah Sneathen ; not that there 
was the least sentimental nonsense about it, but 
there was genuine gratitude on one hand, and a 
sincere, reverent affection upon the other, which, 
fused together on that occasion, in a simple, natu- 
ral way, produced a confidence between the two 
which continued and ripened until death separated 
them— many, many years afterwards- Huldah’s 
modest account of her management of the dairy 
and other domestic matters which must have been 
utterly neglected but for her, did Mrs. Flemming’s 


416 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


thrifty heart good, and brought her many healthy 
steps forward into the old busy ways of life 
When there were no more questions to answer, 
and Huldah had related every Httle detail which 
she thought would please her, she said : “ Huldah, 
I don’t know how to thank you. You’ll make my 
boy a good wife — I know that — and be a comfort 
to father and me in our old days ; and I pray that 
God may bless and reward you as you deserve. As 
it has turned out, it was a good thing that you 
wrote to George Merill— poor, dear George ! I 
always loved the boy. None of us could have done 
that, you know, even if we had thought of it ; we 
would have felt a sort of pride about asking such a 
favor even of our own kin, if we had any. But I 
am very thankful to you, my child, and don’t know 
how the house would have got on without you.” 
And Mrs. Flemming drew Huldah’s fresh young 
face down to her, and placing her hands upon each 
of the girl’s blooming cheeks she kissed her ten- 
derly. “ God has been good to me, child, in bring- 
ing me out of the darkness of error into the light 
of faith,” she said, as she held Huldah in that soft 
motherly embrace ; “ I am now, hke my husband 
and children, a Catholic. Child ! child ! I am very 
happy and thankful ! Go now ; I want to be quiet 
for a httle. I must rest an hour ; then you must 
all come up and spend the rest of the day here. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


417 


when we will talk over everything.” And when 
Huldah lifted up her face from the motherly 
bosom, to go away, her cheeks were wet with the 
first happy tears she had ever shed. 

Truly, indeed, was Mrs. Flemming a little worn 
out by all this excitement ; but it was very pleas- 
ant to lie there in her bright, quiet room, knowing 
that everything was going on well and happily, and 
think of the wonderful ways of Divine Providence, 
which had turned their sadness into joy, put a new 
song on their lips, and delivered them from misfor- 
tune when all human aid seemed hopeless — and 
from the bitter struggles of poverty amongst 
strangers. And yet everything appeared to have 
happened in the natural order of things— even the 
coming of Patrick McCue on the night of the storm, 
his leaving that book as a testimonial of his grati- 
tude — and the conversion of her husband; each 
event taken by itself was simple and natural ; there 
was nothing miraculous, and yet how wonderfully 
had the mercy and love of Almighty God towards 
His creatures been illustrated in their regard. 
How truly, she thought, do all things work together 
for the good of them who love and serve Him !” 
Mrs. Flemming could make nothing of it all, 
humanly speaking, but to feel a sweet, humble, 
utter dependance upon her Father in heaven, and 
wonder in speechless surprise at her past blindness, 


418 


THE ELEMMINaS. 


and His infinite, unspeakable patience and mercy. 
It was like deep calling unto deep it was truly 
a new birth into a life full of consolation and hope. 

When her children came in to her that day, they 
found her with a look of quiet content upon her 
face, and a softened light in her eyes which temp- 
ered their natural brightness with unwonted gen- 
tleness, and which, interpreted aright, indicated the 
new-born humility which had had its birth in her 
soul. They were very happy sitting around her, 
each one relating his or her personal experience 
eluring the dark sorrowful days just past ; in the 
midst of which Keuben, who had been engaged 
busily with his mother’s lap-board, turned it round 
towards thenii exposing to view a spirited charcoal 
sketch of Nick running off the-man-with-the- 
hammer, which made them all laugh very heartily. 

Euby, what did you serve my board in that 
w^ay for ? It will have to be planed to get that 
thing off,” said Mrs. Flemming. 

“ I’ll scrub it, little mammy, as wliite as your 
hands. And as soon as ever you get strong enough 
I’m going to fetch up loads of that soft stone for 
you to stuff your pillows with !” he answered, giving 
his sketch a few additional touches to complete it. 
Then he kissed his mother, who had been watch- 
ing him fondly, and set the board upon her bureav 
for his father to see when he got back. 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


419 


“ I can’t understand Euby,’’ said Mrs. Flemming 
after he went out ; “ he is a perfect riddle to me, 
and will be as long as he lives. But I admire to 
see hiin looking so bright and well. I shouldn’t 
wonder if itr was the cool, bracing weather that has 
made him strong agaiu.’’ It was not the cold, 
bracing weather that had improved Eeuben’s 
health, but the fact that his genius was acknowl- 
edged and approved ; that his vocation was de- 
cided upon; that he had made a successful begin- 
ning, and that a career was before him which he 
determined, if life were spared him, should fulfill 
all liis most ambitious aspirations. This it was 
which gave electricity to his steps, which made the 
young blood leap with the strong impetus of hope 
through his veins, and imparted new life and 
strength to his being. Mrs. Flemming did not 
comprehend this> it was not in her nature to under- 
stand or appreciate the utility of any profession 
which had not for its aim some practical advantage 
or use ; but she did not oppose him, later, when 
with his father’s consent and generous assistance 
he went away, to be gone for years, to study and 
work in Eome, She only said “it was a pity, and 
a great waste of time, in her opinion. He might 
have chosen some more useful occupation ; and 
she couldn’t see how it would end.” Then she 
hung about his neck, smoothed back his wild 


420 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


golden liair for the last time, kissed him, blessed 
him, and let him go, sad to think he was so glad to 
be gone, 

****** 

As soon as ever Mrs. Flemming was strong 
enough to travel, the Old Homestead was closed, 
and the farm matters left in care of the man who 
had been working there many years, and his sister, 
who took charge of the dairy and other affairs be- 
longing to the feminine department of the estab- 
lishment — and all the family went to Boston. Wol- 
fert Flemming had written to Patrick McCue of his 
intention ; and the first object they saw when the 
stage drew up in front of the office was the gaunt 
figure of the good Irishman, his face beaming with 
delight, and his big hands outstretched to welcome 
them and help them down. He had a carriage 
waiting for them, and when they were all packed in 
it he mounted the box with the driver and conduct- 
ed them to a nice boarding-house near the cathedral, 
where he had engaged rooms for them ; and having 
istroduced them to the lady, and seen them com- 
fortably settled, he drove back to the stage-office 
for their baggage. His joy and delight at meeting 
with his friends defies description, and I leave it to 
your imagination. I should be glad to tell you of 
some of the remarkable things he said and did, 
which were so full of deep earnest feeling, of fun 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


421 


and devotion and pathos all mixed together, that 
the Flemmings, though not given to such things, 
laughed and cried at the same time. His last acts 
of love that night were to go and inform the Bishop 
of the arrival of the converts, and to spend an hour 
in the cathedral before the Altar of Our Lady to 
implore her favor and patronage for them. He was 
with them betimes the next morning, to show them 
the way to the cathedral to assist at the Bishop’s 
Mass, and afterwards conduct them into his pre- 
sence. 

The good Bishop received Wolfert Flemming and 
his family with friendly welcome and great emotion ; 
and, after a long conversation with them, was con- 
soled as well as astonished to find that these peo- 
ple, who until then had never seen a Catholic priest 
in all their lives, were so thoroughly instructed in 
Catholic doctrine and dogma as to be perfectly pre- 
pared even then to receive the Sacraments.* On 
that day they went to confession, or rather began 
their confession ; after which they were condition- 
ally baptized — that is, Wolfert Flemming and his 
wife ; their children never having received the rite, 
now received it in all its sacramental fulness. It 
would be simply impossible to describe the solemn 
joy, the blissful content, the deep humility and fer- 
vent faith that animated the souls of our converts ; 

* A literal fact. 


422 


THE FLEMMmGa 


they teemed to enter a new life, on a new earth and 
under a new heaven I 

It appeared so natural — and yet how strange— 
this actual beginning of the chief business of their 
souls ! To place themselves in the presence of Al- 
mighty God and examine the records of their con- 
science, to ‘‘search Jerusalem with lamps, to hunt 
the “ little foxes that destroy the vines,” to enter 
the tribunal of penance and confess their sins ; to 
receive absolution, in the firm faith that what was 
“ loosed upon earth was also loosed in heaven,” was 
a gi'ave, practical, real affair to them, in comparison 
v/ith which all temporal business seemed to sink 
into utter nothingness. It was the immortal grasj)- 
ing the eternal ; their initiation into Christ’s king- 
dom ; the beginning of the means by which they 
were to work out their salvation. And these clear- 
headed, simple-minded, intelhgent people felt and 
understood the full significance of that which they 
were doing, in all its broad spiritual meaning. Their 
reason was satisfied ; they comprehended the mean- 
ing of faith in their own experience, and the neces- 
sity of good works as the fruits of faith ; they ac- 
cepted with joy all the ceaseless responsibilities of 
a spiritual life, courageously determined, with God’s 
help, to “ work out their salvation with fear and 
trembling and placing themselves under the pro- 
tection of the Mother of Jesus, they implored her 


THE FLEMMINGS, 


423 


aid, and humbly rejoiced in the faith whose oonso- 
lations were ‘r full measure, pressed, together and: 
running over.” There was nothing left for them to 
desire, nothing incomplete, nothing imperfect or 
meaningless in this holy religion into whose fold 
they were led ; and, if they had the grace and cou- 
rage to preserve to the end, then — then heaven it-f 
self would be tkeir eternal reward. 

Midnight, Christmas eve, and the Bishop in his 
rich pontifical robes at the altar! Innumerable 
lights glittered among the fair, fragrant hot-house 
flowers and luxuriant evergreens that covered it. 
Around the shrine of the “ Blessed amongst women 
and her Divine Babe,” clustered spotless lilies, and 
roses as lovely as the roses of Sharon— spangled 
between, wherever one could be placed, with twink- 
ling lights I Fair image of peace and holiness ! 
well might thy children, with simple, loving hearts, 
decorate thy shrine with all that is lovely, to cele- 
brate that wonderful night when, through thee, God 
was reconciled with man by the birth of His only- 
begotten Son ] Neither gems from the sea, nor gold 
from the mine, nor frankincense nor myrrh, could 
make a memorial worthy of thee, who reignest in 
heaven, thy home and reward ; but thou acceptest 
the intention of thy childi'en, whom thou lo vest and 
pitiest with a mother’s tender affection; thy ears 
are attentive to their lowest whispers ; and for the 


424 


THE FLEMMINaS. 


honor which they pay thee for the sake of thy be- 
loved Son, thou bestowest upon them blessings and 
graces exceeding their timid requests ! — ever ready, 
ever swift to obtain from Him the fruits of His Pas- 
sion for those for whom He suffered ! 

But this is the glorious night on which thou didst 
heal the deadly wound inflicted by Eve upon man- 
kind, by giving birth to the Saviour, God’s only-be- 
gotten Son ! — and thy children have not forgotten 
thee ! They are poor and humble, but they have 
tried to make thee some slight amends for the 
poverty and needs of that bitter night in the stable 
at Bethlehem, by offering their hearts in which to 
cradle thy Divine Son ; by offering their service to 
thee, as thy handmaids and servants, by doing all 
now that they would have done then, had they been 
with thee beside the manger ! The world can never 
forget thee, O sinless Mother ! and in looking upon 
this spectacle so long and faithfully celebrated by 
the Church, it halts in its headlong career to gaze 
upon thy beauty and think of thy wonderful Son, 
the Man-God, who was crucified for its salvation ; 
and, half believing, turns away with softened heart, 
and bears in its hidden thoughts the memory of 
thee, O sweet Maid of Nazareth ! — a memory, 
which, times without number, brings the sinful and 
erring in humble penitence to the feet of thy Be- 
loved, whose face thou beholdest forever ! 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


425 


The cathedral was crowded with the humble 
poor ; there were none of anj other class in those 
days in Boston who were members of the One True 
Fold. The congregation was like that which adored 
Jesus in the arms of His Mother in the stable at 
Bethlehem, bidden thither from the hills by angel 
messengers ! Their faith was' the same, and they 
had also for their consolation Jesus and Maky. 

In a pew in front of the sanctuary knelt the 
Flemming’s, their souls clothed in the newness and 
brightness of baptismal innocence, and as fair as 
the angels who guarded the tabernacle where the 
Lord, under the veil of bread, reposed. They 
awaited in almost rapt expectation for the moment 
when He would come to them their food and their 
guest. 

The Gloria in eoccelsis pealed from the organ in 
notes of solemn joy, the words borne upwards by 
voices of strange power and sweetness ; the Credo 
was chanted in loud sonorous tones, as if inviting 
all the world to listen ; then followed the Offertory, 
when the Bishop, in a low voice, offered the bread 
and wine, which by the power of Almight God, and 
the words of consecration, would soon be changed 
into the real body and blood of His Son. In low, 
sweet, tremulous notes, the organ breathed its music 
as the unbloody Sacrifice went on ; then it burst 
forth again in stately melody at the Preface, in- 


426 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


creasing in power and sweetness until it poured out 
all of its harmony at the grand and tremendous mo- 
ment of consecration, when bread was no longer 
bread, but the true, real, liYing Body, Humanity 
and Divinity of Jesus Christ— which all present, 
with lively faith, adored as the Bishop elevated the 
host which veiled His glory, as His Humanity once 
veiled His divinity upon earth. 

I dare not attempt to describe what passed in 
the souls of our converts on this occasion ; the pen 
of an angel only could portray the sweet and heaven- 
ly consolations vouchsafed to their faith ! The long 
hoped for moment at length came ; and they went 
forward as they saw others do, and knelt at the 
sanctuary raihng — father, mother, daughters and 
sons together. When the good Bishop approached 
where they knelt, he recognized them, . and tears of 
consolation rolled over his cheeks and glittered 
among the golden embroidery of his vestments as 
he administered to them the Bread of Eternal Life. 

Patrick McCue was the greatest assistance to 
Wolf ert Flemming, in making inquiries, and finding 
out and introducing him to persons who were able 
to give him information as to the best method of 
working his quarry. He hired laborers and bought 
machinery to take back with liim ; but by this time 
the soapstone quarry got to be talked about, and 
at last written about in the daily papers; for this 


THE mEMMINGS. 


427 ^ 

soft niagnesian stone, for which there was an tm- 
Kmited demand, was scarce— and the prospect of a 
supply which would be able to meet it created quite 
an excitement^ which brought Wolfert Flemming'' 
into personal intercourse with a rich capitalist who 
made him such fair and equitable offers that they 
entered into partnership, which continued during 
their lifetime to their mutual satisfaction. 

Every morning found the Flemmings at the Bi- 
shop’s Mass ; their afternoons were devoted to see- 
ing all that was of interest to intelligetit minds like 
theirs ; sunset found them again in the cathedral, 
resting their souls in sweet contemplation and hum- 
ble prayers. These moments were very precious to 
them ; in them they realized all the spiritual depths 
and sweetness of that holy religion which even the 
most liberal-minded of the sects regard as a cold, 
senseless formula 1 Contrasted with their former 
narrow belief, how grand, how sublime, how holy 
Was this faith into which they had been thus pro- 
videntially led! It supplied every need of their 
souls ; it had a consolation for every fear ; it was, 
indeed and in truth, the “ substance of things hoped 
for” unto them. 

They went back to the Old Homestead full of the 
joy of a new life, united in faith as they had ever 
been in affection, and looked back on their past, 
with its trials and sorrows, as the traveller standing 


428 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


upon the verdant flowery glades of Goshen gazes 
out into the parched arid desert he has just passed 
— the desert where the sirocco blasts, and the false, 
fleeting mirage deludes the unwary with its bright 
mockery. . 

***** *** 

Eome, and sunset on the Pincian hill. Two 
young men — Americans — are wandering — in differ- 
ent directions — about the beautiful gardens, listen- 
ing now to the music, now pausing to watch the 
dancers, now following a picturesque group of con- 
tadina ; one of them stopped to admire the dia- 
mond sparkles of a fountain which tossed its spray 
like a libation into the golden, rose-tinted haze of 
evening ; the other paused upon the terrace which 
overhangs the Piazza del Popolo, and looked down 
with sad, thoughtful eyes on the obelisk and foun- 
tains below ; then his gaze wandered out beyond 
the purple masses of domes and cupolas, beyond 
the shadow-wrapped Mausoleum of Hadrian, beyond 
the pearl-white mists rising from the Tiber, towards 
the golden West. About the same moment they 
both started to leave the gardens. The gay crowds 
were going; why should they remain? Walking 
quickly from opposite directions, they came against 
each other with such impetus that they were near 
falling to the ground. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


429 


“ I beg your pardon !” said the younger, with a 
light, merry laugh. 

Hilloa !” exclaimed the other, emerging from 
the cloud of dust their collision had raised. 

Hilloa, too !” shouted the first, holding out both 
hands, which his companion grasped and shook 
heartily. 

‘‘John Wilde ! — where in the mischief — ” 

“ George Merill ! — where in the world — ” 

“ What brought you here, John ?” 

“ IfMiere have you been, George ? You look like 
a Bedouin ?” 

“ I feel like one. Come let us go and sit under 
the laurels by the fountain and have a good, sensi- 
ble Newr-England talk.’’ 

“ Now, tell me when you left home ?” said John 
Wilde, as they settled themselves upon a stone seat 
under the laurels, where the misty spray of the 
fountain was occasionally blown against their 
cheeks. 

“ Two years ago. For the last six months I have 
been exploring the Nile, and trying my best to un- 
riddle the Sphynx ; but she made no sign, and I got 
sick of it and came to Kome to rest. I arrived only 
this morning, little expecting to find an old friend 
before night.” 

Then they fell to talking over their travels and 
adventures ; and as the twilight deepened around 


430 


TSE ELEMMINGS. 


tliesm, and the stars looked down out of the purple 
heavens, thoughts of their far-off home in the westr 
em world came fluttering into their hearts like doves 
flying home to their cotes; and they questioned 
each other as to the latest news. ' 

■M got a letter some months ago from my mo^ 
ther,” said John Wilde, dropping his voice ; a let- 
ter full of strange news about the Flemmings. I 
suppose' you have heard all about their good for- 
tune. I was heartily glad.” 

c:r“ Yes, I heard about that streak of good luck, or 
rather I read of it in a Boston paper which my 
agent sent me. I got nothing but papers from 
home ; nobody writes to me that I care to hear 
from. My grandfather writes, but his letters are 
such doleful- sermons on the subject of my uncon- 
verted state and total depravity that I don’t take 
the trouble to read them. I should have committed 
suicide long ago, , if I had been foolish enough to 
have taken them to heart. I got one letter from 
Huldah Sneathen about the time you speak of.” 

Both werea silent for a little while ; busy memo- 
ries were crowding into their minds, fraught with 
sadness and full pf the ghosts of their love’s young 
dreams. , , ' . - 

“ My mother wrote me word that Hope Flem- 
ming bad gone to be a nun,” said John Wilde at 


THE FLEMMING#, 


431 


‘‘ Tliat’s a mistake, Jolm. Huldah told me all 
about it. She ought to have known, for she was 
wdth them in Boston, when — -well— it was Eva who 
went to be a nun or a Sister of Charity, or some- 
thing of that sort,” answered George^Merill. 

“ George, are you certain? are you quite sure?” 
asked John Wilde, eager and excited. 

“ Of course I am sure: I remember the very 
name she has taken. She is now Sister Monica, 
There’s no mistake in its being Eva. I should re- 
member j for you know, John, how I loved Eva 
Flemming, and it’s not likely that I should forget 
anything concerning her,” replied George Merill 
sadly, • i V 

“ When my mother wrote, the family were in 
Boston, and the news came to her through Miss 
Debby Wyatt, who no doubt had it second hand 
from some one else who was misinformed,” answer- 
ed John Wilde, whose heart was beating quickly 
and joyfully. ^ 

It was growing dark, and the young men rose to 
go. Arm-in-arm, they walked slowly down the 
steep road, talking as if they had not another day 
to live. Crossing the Piazza del Popolo, they 
strolled on, scarcely knowing or caring whither, when 
they suddenly heard the musical tinkling of a little 
bell, and saw a procession bearing lighted candles 
coming towards them. From every window on 


432 


fHE FLEMMINGS. 


each side the street was held a lighted candle — 
those who held ,them kneeling devoutly. On the 
sidewalks, all uncovered and knelt ; and upon the 
air arose, with the faint odor of incense, the solemn 
Tantum ergo, in grave musical numbers. 

“ Let us get out of the way of that,” said George 
Merill. 

‘‘ Bather let us keep in the way of it,” answered 
John Wilde, as the proceseion drew nearer. He 
uncovered his head and knelt,w hile George Merill 
hid himself under the shadow of a deep, arched 
doorway until it got past. “ What is it all, and 
what does it mean ?” he inquired. 

“ The priest is carrying the Holy Yiaticum to a 
dying person,” replied John Wilde ; “ and if you’ll 
excuse me, George, I’ll go with them. Later I’ll 
come to your lodgings.” 

‘‘John, tell me one thing ; are you a Boman Ca- 
tholic ?” asked George Merill, standing before his 
friend and looking fixedly at him. 

“ I am, thank God,” was the reply. 

“ Well! I suppose it’s a good thing, old fellow. 
I’d as lief be a Catholic as anything else, I guess ; 
but I don’t much believe in anything, except my 
actual existence. I’m at the English hotel in the 
Piazza di Spagna, and shall wait up for you,” And 
George Merill, light-hearted, careless, and looking 
upon all religions, irrespective of creed or dogma. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


433 


as systems good enough in their way for bettering 
the moral condition of mankind, made a detour and 
wended his way towards his lodgings ; while John 
Wilde, hastily purchasing a wax candle from a shop 
near by, lighted it and fell into the procession, and 
accompanied to the house of the soul which, tremb- 
ling on the borders of time, was only waiting to be 
strengthened with the ‘^hf e-giving Bread,^’ as it 
passed through the shadow of death into the pre- 
sence of Him who declared that “ whoever eat of 
this Bread should have eternal life.” 

******** 

“ Now tell me, John, if you please, how it hap- 
pens that you are a Catholic ?” asked George Merill 
that night, as they both sat in the balcony overlook* 
ing the old deserted piazza, talking, and smoking 
cigars of so choice a brand that the air was fragrant 
around them. This was one of George Merill’s 
special and dearly-prized luxuries, which John 
Wilde felt no compunction in sharing. 

‘‘ Don’t expect to hear anything marvellous, 
George. My conversion was a very gradual and 
simple business. I read attentively, before I left 
home, ‘Milner’s End of Controversy,’ and other 
Catholic books, solely to find out Hope’s reasons 
for becoming a Catholic. I was impressed more 
than I would own up to ; but I wasn’t prepared to 
believe all that I read, or sacrifice my worldly in- 


434 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


terests either ; and so I told Hope ; and, as you 
know, she thought it best for the happiness of both, 
differing so widely in religious belief as we did, to 
break off our engagement, almost on the very eve 
of our wedding day. I tell you, George, it came 
near ruining me, body and soul ; it was the bitter- 
est trial I ever had, or ever expect to have ; and my 
faith in God was shaken to its foundations. Then 
I determined to go abroad, and endeavor to forget 
my hopeless love, in foreign travel among strange 
scenes. But it was no use. The violence of my 
emotions simply died out — nothing more ; and as a 
sort of calm succeeded, I begin to think over books 
I had read, and the conversations I had had with 
Hope’s father. You see ; the seed was planted, and 
I all unconscious of it ! About this time I formed 
the acquaintance of a young Englishmnn, on board 
a Mediterranean steamer, on his way to Kome. He 
was of noble birth and large estate — I learned after- 
wards from another — but after his conversion he 
resigned his rank and fortune, except so much, 
which was to be annually expended for the poor, 
and determined to enter the Society of Jesus and 
devote his life to the service of God. I knew no- 
thing of his history then ; but it happened one day 
that I was able to do him a little service when he 
was quite ill, for which he was very grateful, and 
his reserve melted away like frost under the sun- 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


435 


shine. He was very fragile, and often reminded 
me of Eeuben Flemming. His intellect was highly 
cultivated, and his natural gifts were wonderful. 
As we grew more and more attached to each other, 
I found out his religion : then we began to discuss* 
the subject, and at last we talked of nothing else. 
We journeyed to Rome together ; he entered the 
novitiate at the Gesii, then I saw him only occasion- 
ally. One day, towards the close of Lent, on Fri- 
day, I went to the Coliseum to see the stations.” 
He, with other scholastics from the Gesu, was 
there. I got as near him as I could, hoping to ex- 
change a few words with him on our v/ay back ; but 
I saw him suddenly grow very white, a stream of 
blood gushed from his lips and he fell into my arms 
unconscious. I got permission to visit him every 
day while he lived ; he lived long enough, George, 
to prevail with me, by God’s grace ; and the day 
on wliich he received the Holy Viaticum, I received 
at the same time, in his presence, the Bread of 
Life. Independent of the profound joy I experienc- 
ed in this, my first Communion, it was something 
very like heaven to see the angelic smile that irra- 
diated his dying countenance as he watched me ; to 
feel the faint, loving clasp of his cold fingers, and 
hear him whisper as he kissed me : “ Well done ! 
well done !” They were his last words ; in another 
moment my friend and brother was at rest. I 


436 


THE FEEMMINGS. 


staid on in Home. Somehow I could not bear to 
leave the spot where I had been so blessed — where 
I had found a balm which consecrated my trials, 
and gave me strength to look out into life with a 
firm, healthful purpose. I could not bear to leave 
the hallowed grave of my friend, out of whose death 
my soul had risen into a new life. It was a sacred 
tie which bound me to the earth where he reposed. 
Since I had heard the news -about Hope Flemming 
there seemed to be nothing to take me home ; and 
after my conversion I had still less desire to return. 
Until to-night, I beheve that she had consecrated 
herself to Almighty God in a religious life.” 

‘‘No ; it was Eva, John. Be sure of that,” said 
George Merill sadly. 

“ To-morrow I shall start for home,” continued 
John Wilde. “ There is no obstacle now to prevent 
Hope’s fulfilling her engagement with me, unless 
she has changed her mind.” 

“She hasn’t changed her mind, John; depend 
upon that. I congratulate you, old fellow; upon 
my soul, I do,” exclaimed George Merill, with 
hearty sincerity. “ Here you are settled in the 
matter of religion, which is a good thing to begin 
with ; and you will go back and more than realize 
the hopes which you thought were dead and buried. 
You are a lucky fellow!” he said, with a sigh, 
which he tried to smother under a laugh. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


437 


Thank you, George. I am not so sure about 
Hope Flemming ; but I shall go back and see what 
awaits me,” answered John Wilde, rising to go. 

Then they parted, with a warm, friendly grasp- 
ing of the hands, kind, brave words, and promises 
to write to each other frequently; John Wilde 
thanking God in his heart of hearts for the fair 
promise of the future; George Merill sorrowful 
and lonely, and half believing in Fate. 

* -Sf -Jf * * * * * 

I have, really, but little more to tell; but my 
narrative will be incomplete unless I tell that little. 
If you remember the last time Nick Flemming came 
back from ‘‘The Pines,” he told his father that 
“he believed everything was going to smash up 
there, through the mismanagement of the Deacon’s 
partner and too much praying.” He was not mis- 
taken in his prediction ; for soon afterwards there 
was a strike among the lumbermen, which the 
“ man gifted in prayer ” felt to some purpose ; for, 
enraged at this petty tyrannies and disgusting hy- 
pocrisy, furious at an effort he made to curtail 
their wages and still further restrict their privi-^ 
leges, they fell upon him one night and gave him a 
beating which bruised every bone in his body. The 
next morning he had vanished — gone off with the 
» Deacon’s money — some eight thousand dollars, 
which he had drawm from time to time under the 


438 ' THE FLEMMINGS. 

pretext of using it to buy machinery and materials 
for the construction of the steam saw-mill, which 
up to this time had not risen more than two feet 
above the foundation. Everything was found to be 
in a terrible snarl at “The Pines,” and the busi- 
ness seemed ruined forever. The Deacon took it 
very hard. Altogether, the loss, the mortification 
and the worry agitated him and put his blood in 
such a ferment, that by the time he managed to 
get all the details of the affair into his head with a 
clear idea of the situation, he found it more than 
he could stand, and had an attack of apoplexy, 
which terminated fatally. 

Huldah and Nicholas were soon afterwards mar- 
ried by a young clergyman whom the Flemmings 
were honored in having for their guest. The young 
man — ^just ordained — had fallen into such a pre- 
carious state of health, that with the Bishop’s con- 
sent, and by the advice of his medical man, he ac- 
cepted the invitation of Wolfert Flemming, who 
was in Boston at the time, to return home with 
him to spend the summer months in the bracing, 
life-restoring air of the New Hampshire hills. The 
wedding was a very quiet one, and the young couple 
went to house-keeping in the old brown cottage 
under the elms where Huldah was born. She be- 
came a convert to the CathoHc faith, which shed 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


439 


such a halo of pure happiness throughout her whole 
being that she was more cheerful and blithe than 
ever ; this, with her thrifty, industrious habits, and 
real intelhgence, made her husband’s home a very 
happy and attractive one. Miss Debby hved on 
with them — Huldah’s cross, which she bore with 
sweet patience and pity for the lonely, dependent 
woman, who let her know without reserve that 
she felt herself disgraced and demeaned by being 
obliged to hve with Papists.” Nothing softened 
her : no attention or kindness could sweeten her 
bitter nature, and she grumbled and fretted and 
found fault to the end of the chapter, affording 
Huldah daily, and sometimes hourly, occasions of 
merit which w’^ere not lost to her. The business at 
“ The Pines,” under Nicholas Flemming’s manage- 
ment, became gradually more prosperous than ever. 
Spiritually and temporally, they were blessed be- 
yond all their imaginings, and never ceased giving 
thanks to Almiglity God, whose providence had 
directed all things so mercifully for them. 

It was not long, after Nick’s marriage when 
John Wilde came home, nor many days .after his 
arrival that Hope Flemming had occasion to un- 
lock the old cedar chest, in which three years be- 
fore she had folded away her bridal trousseau^ her 
tears dropping heavily upon the white, transparent, 


440 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


beautiful garments, as if she had laid a dearly 
loved face, on which she was never to look upon 
again, in its coffin. But now I can say no more 
than that there was great happiness and soon a 
Catholic wedding in the Old Homestead. 

Do you remember the quaint old Puritan room 
whicli I described so particularly in the first chap- 
ter, its rafters black with age and the breath of Pu- 
ritan generations who had lived and j^rayed under 
them, its floors dark and polished beneath the 
tread of their feet? Can you imagine the stern 
prayers that used to be uttered there to be de- 
fended against the Pope and idolatry; and the 
councils that used to be held there over the fate of 
unfortunate Catholics who had the temerity to 
trust themselves to their mercy ; and the righteous 
‘‘ amen ” uttered, when “ hanging” or ‘‘branding,” 
was determined on. 

Now behold ! At one end of the room, in front 
of the tiled fireplace, wliich was concealed by 
boughs of cedar, stood an altar decorated with 
lights and flowers. There was a costly crucifix 
upon it, which John Wilde brought from abroad — 
a genuine Benvenuto Cellini, the dealer had assured 
him ; and at the foot of the crucifix a quaint old 

chalice, which Pather H had found among the 

antique treasures of silver and gold in the buffet 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


441 


Avliicli the Dutch ancestors of the Flemmings had 
taken, with other rich spoils, from some Spanish 
galleon which they afterwards sunk. It was a sac- 
ramental cup ; the inscription and the devices 
upon it were unmistakable, and now it was to be 
put once more to the holy use for which it was 

fashioned. Father ■: celebrated the bridal Mass ; 

all the family — and Patrick McCue, an honored 
guest — ^being present ; also the Wilburs, who thought 
it the finest show they had ever seen. Truly was 
that feast of the Bread of Eternal Life, which the 
Flemmings and Patrick McCue partook of that' 
fair summer morning with John "Wilde and his 
bride, a holy and happy one ! . Eva, far away in her 
novitiate in the beautiful valley of St. Joseph’s, of- 
fered her Communion in spirit with theirs, and 
prayed for the happiness, temporal and eternal, of 
her dear ones at home. Mrs. Wilde’s heart was 
half broken at her son’s conversion, and she de- 
clined being present at the wedding ; indeed, it was 
more than a year before she consented to see him 
or his wife. But a little girl was born to them, 
which they named for her ; and that vanquished 
her, and she was very happy, and ashamed of her- 
self. One day John was unpacking a box which 
George Merill had sent him from China. He 
took out a rich silk robe, such as are worn by man- 


442 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


darins of. the first class, and he and Hope were ex- 
amining it, when Mrs. Wild came in with her chubby 
namesake in her arms. 

‘‘Goodsakes, John!” she exclaimed, ‘‘is that the 
dress you wear when you go to Mass ?”* It was 
the first reference she had ever made to his relig- 
ion, and it was too much for him ; he shouted with 
"laughter, and was tempted to tell her “ yes,” but 
didn’t. But it broke the ice ; and from time to 
time after that they had many talks about the 
Catholic religion and its doctrines. Mrs. Wilde, 
•now very old, and waiting any hour for the coming 
of death, is prepared with the best dispositions to 
be received into the Church as soon as Father 
H , who is expected from Boston, arrives. 

Soon after Hope’s wedding, she noticed one day 
that the portrait of old Lady Pendarvis was hang- 
ing in the “ best room,” with a wreath of evergreen 
and immortelles around it. 

“ Why, mother, who did this?” she asked in sur- 
prise. 

“ I did, Hope. Lady Pendarvis was a Catholic.” 

“ And you knew it all the time ?” 

“ Yes, and I should have been glad to burn it up 
any day, once, for that very reason ; but she looked 
too much like Euby.” 

* This question was really asked. 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


443 


“ Dear Euby !” said Hope, looking dreamily at 
the picture, while her thoughts were far away in 
the atelier of the now famous artist. Dear Euby ! 
how glad I shall be to see him ! Why, mother, the 
papers say that some of the things he has made 
are equal to the antiques, and he has more orders 
than he can execute ; and honors are conferred 
upon him constantly by royal personages. I’m 
very proud of him.” 

“ Well ! it seems a very useless sort of a business 
to me. I can’t see the good of it; and never 
could. But he’s happy ; and I try to be content,” 
said Mrs. Flemming, brushing a tear from her 
cheeks. 

****** 

The Wilburs staid on at Mill farm ; and Wilbur 
is now Wolfert Flemming’s factor, and one of the 
thriving men of the neighborhood. The Flem- 
mings live among themselves, still avoided, and 
their prosperity envied by their Puritan friends. 
The old Puritan bitterness is not dead ; but' it is 
more feeble, and slowly dying out in staunch, brave 
New England ; and it is safe to believe that upon 
the soil where men have suffered for the faith in 
the old Puritan times—where in our own day a 
convent has been burnt^* to the ground, and a holy 


Ursuline Convent at Charlestown. 


444 


THE FLEMMINGS. 


priest* tarred and feathered and almost murdered 
by fanatical mobs, the Church will grow and flour- 
ish — nay, 'even now in some parts it is growing and 
flourishing, “ like a tree hard by living waters.” 


Father Bapst, S. J. 





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